Hideaway Strath when i suggested maybe we don't bring the gun in, he was very obliging.

While Fig seemed to be thriving in their new home, Fenn hated it, and the adjustment had left her moodily sulking and ignoring most everyone for much of the day.  Even Fig, which was definitely not standard.

Before she'd lost most of the use of her eyes, she'd managed to grow accustomed to the layout of the Redhawks claim.  At least, the small chunk they'd been allowed on.  Over the past weeks, though, her vision had been deteriorating further, and it was now to the point where she could barely distinguish shapes unless they were moving.  Everything was a darkened blur, and the fact that it was an unknown blur made it worse.  She was scared, and Fenn did not like being scared.

She had tucked herself into the roots of a tree currently and was staring moodily out, her head resting on her paws.  She'd stay there until someone bothered her, but she wasn't really interested in exploring right now.