Neverwinter Forest I hear they're calling my name

With the coming of spring and the return of life, the thicket that Mal considered his own personal den of sorts had bulked up a bit. It might not be as sheltered as a hole in the ground, but he liked it. It worked for him. At least right now he was just lounging, trying to wake up a little so he could get started on the whole going and hunting stuff thing and he kind of didn't want to -- there was always work to do, for better or worse. It kept him occupied, kept him from thinking and remembering when he had to instead focus on patrolling or hunting. He rolled around like the lazy punk he was, delaying, but then he heard Simmik.

Upside down, his ears pricked into the dirt for a moment before he flipped back over and to his feet. Oh hey! He trotted over so he wasn't talking through the bushes like some weirdo, shaking out his fur as he went along, What's up? He still was concerned about her, gee, which maybe made him a little over-eager to be at her beck and call depending on one's perspective.