Hushed Willows You are the reason.

He pressed his nose to the knotted, toughened flesh of his thigh, testing the sensitivity there. It still stung to touch, nothing he couldn't handle, and indicated that he would still need some time to recover.

Time that was very valuable, shoold he choose to see his plan through.

Pink tongue slipped from between his lips in a yawn, and he swept it over his whiskers as he recoiled and settled once more on his belly, shifting his weight to outstretch his forelimbs. Dacio moved his head, prepared to settle his chin on an elbow, but his grey-green gaze found the pale eyes of another who looked his way.

The boy was skinny, made of soft dove hues and with an untrained frame, and Dacio took a moment to study this rangy cub from where he lay. "Hei," he called out in his mother tongue, "what's that you've got?"