Bearclaw Valley watchmen of flocks

Karst was perplexed. He had never been asked that question before, to his knowledge, and immediately thought that this stranger was here to trick him, or test him. His ears slanted, his eyes narrowed; he bristled a little bit and — while wanting to deny this stranger and remove him from his safe space, grit his teeth instead.

If this was a game then this dark-coated boy would not be alone in playing it. Karst wondered about which of the other children would manage to draw a stranger in to a plot such as this; his mind flashed to Avicus, touched upon Aventus, even counted Averna among them despite her age.

N..n.. he began to say, but he knew better. If this person was sent by the princeling of their bitey sister he could not do anything about it. Admitting he needed help was one thing, accepting it—while anticipating a backstab—was another.

Need more plants. He finally says, and motions to the depleted collections within the hovel; Karst had cleaned out the dead and rotted parts of the collection and that left them nearly barren.