Porcupine Ridge leshen

with such a large kill, stigmata had no qualms with eating simultaneous to his comrades, and though he displayed no signs of impeding her, the honeyed nisse seemed loathe to interrupt the male's banquet. he let her be shy, or respectful, as some would call it, and he had his fill quickly, before too much snow could melt onto their steaming meal.

he turned an ear as he heard her speak, and plucked himself away from the carcass with syrupy squelch. viscera jiggled inelegantly from a corner of his mouth as he turned towards a bodily ringing he hadn't noticed until she'd called attention to it. the wound was superficial - to him - but it had an intimidating red gleam dripping beneath a long, clear, sinew-pink line of exposed flesh. deep enough that it would be tender for up to a week or more; thin enough that it was already half-hidden in the black smear of his thick, smoky fur. "so i am," he observed bemusedly, craning his neck to better see the soon-to-be scar.

a tattoo of their first meeting.

he looked at her now, almost pointedly holding her gaze as he trotted several feet from their bounty and slipped into a prone position, like he had before their hunt. he waited to see what she would do, and in what order would she do it.