Emberwood The Beastie Boys fought and possibly died for my right to party

For Uaine Gorsedd formation!

Oh, yes, this was quite good. Much better than the marsh. There were still things to hash out re: Lolita, and he hadn't seen too much of Pirrup in the last day or two. . . but overall, quite good.

Pygmalion was busy being a model citizen of Ibis' new venture. Uaine Gorsedd, it was called. For whatever reason, it felt good on his tongue, which he chalked up to fate being just right. He was meant to have come here, to be here. To be with Bhediya and all the rest.

So yes, he patrolled the borders, he stocked the caches with squirrels, and today, he moseyed around a potential rendezvous site, wondering if a sharp drop-off in the earth that left an overhang could be dug into a den. Better do it quickly before the frost set in. . .

So dig he did, dig dig dig, until his paws were dark and his chest and muzzle spattered with mud, leaves and detritus.