Neverwinter Forest whistle while you work

Something about late Fall made him feel sour all of the time. It was something similar to the feeling of being warm and cozy, snuggled up in bed- and then hearing the alarm clock go off, meaning that you had to get up and go to work. That was what Winter was, as it came following a warm, relaxed Summer. He'd not spent this much time in one particular place before, and had grown quite comfortable, if not a bit lazy as well. The others in the pack seemed to tolerate him well enough- and had tolerated his need for space and boundaries as well. Aibreann had not forced him to babysit, Mal had not forced him to work harder, and nobody had tried to make him their best friend. That was the best part. 

He wanted to slink away when he caught sight of one of his nephews so that he could avoid having to play or teach or hunt or whatever it was that uncles were supposed to do- but the kid was sitting right next to a plant that Jackalope knew could cause him a lot of harm. He hadn't seen Sullivan eat any of the flowers, but he knew he'd never hear the end of it if the kid went home sick, and pointed out that Jackalope hadn't done anything to stop him from eating the plant. 

So he sauntered over casually, gave the kid a somewhat sour side-eye, and then set upon the tall, leafy plant with both front paws, dragging it out of the dirt and scuffing at it with both paws until it was little more than greenish, fiberous pulp, covered in dirt. 

There. Mission accomplished. 

Without an explanation, he began to skulk away, considering himself the pack's most secret hero for the day, with the intention of finding the warmest sunspot and letting himself have a nice little nap.