Moonspear i’m through with bibles, and i’m through with food

if arcturus knew just a bit more of dragomir's backstory, he would have felt needled with guilt to inspire such feelings of free-falling anxiety in the moonspearian. he was aware that possibly, dragomir was uncomfortable -- but stupidly, the beta just chalked it up to first-timer jimmies.

the beta had already turned to look towards their quarry, and missed the prickling of fur that wreathed dragomir's neck. he took in a deep breath, already filled with the excitement of the hunt. nothing cleared his mind like hunting did -- it was like for the duration of the endeavor, his mind and all of its troublesome thoughts were wiped clean. where none of his mortal troubles mattered: just him, the huntsman -- and the hunted.

he nodded, picking his way up the slope. the scent of ram was thicker here, but not all-together indicative the beast was figuratively next-door. it would likely be a half-hour's hike before they came across the beast, and in that time arcturus would happily answer any questions dragomir had.