Swiftcurrent Creek little puppet made of pine.

Figment isn’t gone too far before he realized he was being followed. He slowed to a stop and peered backwards over his shoulder, watching anxiously as she came up to him. He huffed and gave his coat a shake to relieve some of his tension. When he leaned close to her, it wasn’t to ask her to go. He’d grown up with Fennec—he knew better than to try and convince a woman to change her mind when she was clearly in a contrary mood.

”I’m on my way to have a talk with a Wolverine,” Fig informed her, the urgency of the situation causing him to forgo any pleasantries, ”If you want to keep playing follow the leader with me, you might get caught up in the conversation. Fair warning.” He turned and set off again, fully expecting her to continue trailing after him in spite of the warning.