Grouse Thicket maybe i'm not listening

well, the wolf was at least sentient - or he appeared to be when he shakily turned to face rannveig, bobblng the way rannveing had seen deer at the end of their life sometimes do. he was not convinced whatever afflicted this male wasn't contagious - especially since the grouses were acting up too.

he came to the rational conclusion there was some sort of hijinx happening in this area, especially given the smell. it wafted about in sickly, cloying perfume, even assaulting his nose with a strangeness he didn't necessarily hate. watching dashiell gamely tackle empty air, rannveig's expression remained confused but piqued. the bird hadn' moved much, but then again, it looked just as discombobulated as dashiell did.

"umm.. you okay..?" the answer was obviously not, but rannveig felt compelled to ask it anyway.