Whitebark Stream So take this feeling, make it grow.

Bhediya. So that was her name? His encounter with her hadn't even gotten as far as introductions, because the raven wolf-dog had taken it upon herself to heave onto the ground at his feet. His mate offered a tidbit into Bhediya's background and could appreciate her resentment toward the opposite sex, though he could not understand what had made her change so suddenly. Artyom twitched a whisker, recalling vividly her puddle of vomit that'd spattered across his pale forelimbs - and the smell! 

He shuddered; "she puked on my feet then just... walked off." There was a funny side to it, now that he spoke openly of the trauma that came with being puked on, but at the time he'd been horrified. So he laughed, "I'm pretty sure she did it on purpose!"

Dawn, too, injected humour into the situation, and he grinned with feigned pride to accompany the upward tilt of his muzzle. He was happy to end that grim topic there, and turned full attention toward this trip that his sterling companion had in mind for them. "I like that idea," Artyom announced, "any time with you, is time well spent."