Bramblepoint growing strong

His grip tightened on the apple, but Hydra did not rise to his tired display of play. His tongue worked around where she had bitten into the fruit and he found it almost too sweet for his liking—such a display more than likely crossed his face as he wheeled around to face her once again.

Getting his teeth free from the apple was another story.

Keenly, he watched as she went along in her investigation, her thoughts aloud for his consideration too. And then his vision was off her as he shoved a toe or two in where he had clamped down on the apple, working it loose from where it had swiftly begun to aggravate him. Freed at last, his tongue scraped against his teeth backwards as he pondered their meal plans.

"She fed a weasel a plant?" He latched onto the more inane of her commentary, huffing with amusement. "I would have liked to have seen such a thing." Another thing easy to picture, the squealing weasel and snarling trio, holding it to spit down its throat like playground bullies. It felt apt. He shook his head thereafter, dismissing the idea for what they had really come out there for.

"But the apples are... sweet. Some of these are definitely not edible, so we would need to use caution when picking them too. The only downfall I see in luring prey to our claim is that it could bring us more trouble, whether it's freshly ill game or the hungry waiting to pick them off." But closer to them? It was probable, he supposed, provided they would eat the fruits quick to drop with the ice and snow.