animal smells and porcupine quills

Yay, the internet decided to work so I don't have to post from my phone!

Caught off-guard, Mordecai at first wasn't sure how to react towards Sitri bowing his head, nor the apologetic wording. Something must have been misintepreted, but the tawny Ostrega opted to say nothing out of confusion. Having thought they had moved on past talk of the hunt, it felt as though it had come out of the blue, and Mordecai wondered if Sitri had decided not to help. Though he would have liked nothing more than to have the scarred superior beside him during the hunt, he would also leave it up to Sitri whether or not he participated. Mordecai had little influence over the way things went.

And that was when they had stumbled upon the burrow from where the weasels had gone to rest. Or lack thereof, it seemed, as Sitri deftly snatched one with ease. With a wave of his tail, he stepped in closer to catch the statement offered to him. No inkling that any other had been there before them? That surprised him, though time and weather alone were often enough to erase evidence that they had graced anything. Maybe it had simply been a long time before any other pack had resided there. “Maybe it's cursed,” he said jokingly, unaware of what would occur in their pack with the days to come.

Turning his attention to what he thought was a burrow, Mordecai realized that they had made less of a burrow and more of a nest in the thick clump of brush. If he looked closely, he could pick out the beady eyes that peered out at them, and wondered if they believed that they could not be seen. This was a passing thought however, as he swiftly went to scatter the brush. One marmot squealed as he stepped on it, but another was scooped up and put to an end between his jaws. They were young and surprisingly dumb; he reckoned Sitri had killed their parent moments before.