Broken Boulder from rags to recovery

Once he had relieved himself Arcas stepped beyond the warm puddle, scratching at the dirt to etch his scent deeper (as well as dry off his toes because he had partially stepped in the mess he had made); so he took his time in returning to where he had left the woman.

He was thrilled to see the sombre-faced leader there too, and chuffed a greeting at him. Mornin' boss. Arcas did not even look toward the fuming Sequoia, focusing all of his attention upon Mahler — he was the most important being here, after all.

I was just about to get to work on some breakfast. Care to join me?