Sun Mote Copse Tiny moving parts

A pack den. That brought to mind images of women with children sharing spaces, but in that scene playing out in his head, Tulimaq couldn't place any men within the confines of the dirt. It sounded strange to him, but he'd always been made to sleep above-ground and his views were limited but not absolute. He nods as she explains, but draws away from the opening.

I've never slept in a den, he remarked, but then corrected himself, Not since I was a babe, anyway. I'm happy to guard this once its being used though — from outside. He smirks, and ducks his head to glance at the opening again; his face might have fit in that narrow window but that didn't mean the rest of him ever would.

It was good to see that she was thinking of the future; whatever sadness had gripped her before seemed to have lessened (but not entirely), and she appeared quite focused on the future. Were you planning on kids? He asked point-blank, and watches her for clues. It made sense to him. She was small but spirited, a woman with experience in such things.