Big Salmon Lake Goldwing Messenger

A tired smile crossed his snout, crinkling it.

Foxfur had always liked the way some could comment on a seemingly normal event, such as the weather, and seem perfectly content with it. The dusty brown of his gaze flicked over their surroundings with some modicum of scrutiny before the warrior returned it to the woman.

It is. I sometimes forget to stop and admire it.