Bramblepoint Sunblind

Fear. He remembered it, a sour and unpleasant smell that was not washed off so easily. It crusted the fur, made one's mouth dry.

So yours must tell a story also. Khenbish skimmed off some of the distance between them. The stranger could easily lunge forward and harm him now, but there was an element of trust in the cadence of their conversation. A calm protected by a silent but powerful agreement.

I hope it's a happy one, he offered, in a moment of childlike sincerity, a simple wish of goodwill. I want to know how it goes.