Blacktail Deer Plateau tammaktuk

Down he came, from the plateau above—

And up, Cottongrass watched, as he picked his way down the stonework.

His tail wagged, and he stepped close. A single step forward, to meet him halfway, his head held low and his neck stretched out when he approached. To smell the air around him. To smell his scent, as he talked.

A friend.

A home.

And, dark and small and sleek, like a fox.

He pulled back. Back into his own personal space. And slumped down onto his hindquarters, big and lazy and soft.

“No.” He answered. Shook his big head.

He had met many people, but a Sakhmet didn’t sound like one of them.

His tail thumped, once, against the ground behind him, and he raised a single back leg to scratch at the back of one of his ears.

“How did, how did you lose her?” He asked.