Sunbeam Lair i have become death, the destroyer of worlds

an itch in his leg draws salvatore's singular gaze down and he bows his head to nibble at it; tongue soothing where teeth mussed the shortened fur there. my companion, kukulkan, bhediya speaks in a soft laugh, mentioning that he should be somewhere nearby. so, salvatore surmises, he's merely caught her in a period of being alone. ❝you thinking of making this place home then?❞ she smells of pack, though not necessarily as strong as someone fresh or even a few days from their borders. it's a logical conclusion that he draws based on how much effort she's clearly put forth to tending to her and guests' comforts.

❝that's ...true,❞ salvatore admits with a slight shrug of his shoulders as he settles into the moss and foliage soft bed. much warmer than the chill of the unforgiving stone as he first thought to lay. ❝trying to get the lay of the land,❞ he admits, not really finding the return of his own question all that surprising. it was only a fair exchange, after all. ❝...my mother always taught me and my sister that if we're ever in a foreign place to go to higher ground to get our bearings.❞ stitch's life lessons weren't always so sound but there was merit in those particular words. it helped to survey the land, to see what awaits; and while it didn't always apply ...when it has proven to be useful.