Grouse Thicket my bones can be scorched

as the grouse lifted into noisy flight, a flurry of feathers and flapping wings as they hurried to the safety of the branches above, they unveil a singular truth in the wake of their retreating flurry. that jagtooth isn't as alone in the territory, or rather the general vicinity ( it seems awful pompous to assume that he's alone in the territory ) as he'd first been led to assume. likely, the grouse had masked her scent from him, already distracted by his thoughts of the troubled children of his loins.

golden gaze takes her in from across the clearing, his footfalls having slowed to a stop all together as the ex-cardinal studies her. her pelage stands out in the dark of the forest, a creamed ivory against the otherwise darkened colors of the earth. she appears young — about the age of blackheart and mötley ...if not younger. though his eyesight still remains rather keen he isn't very talented at assuming age beyond when it's easy.

the cardinal contemplates offering a soft chuff but she has, no doubt, already seen him and instead opts for a bow his head followed by a soft, hello.