Cedar Sweep nordstjärna

Ah, so the hunter was not from these woods? Rosenskärm looked to the fawn and to the man, and nosed around the other side of where the remains sat in the ferns. If it is good for Rey-son, Rosenskärm help.

He tugged at part of the carcass and away it came, tearing along the line in the belly that he'd already made with his teeth, when he'd eaten. He thought briefly of taking a leg and burying it for later, but Reyson had done the work and deserved the reward.

Here, I -- ah, up, help to top. And he hoisted the fawn piece by piece across Reyson's shoulders. The blood was everywhere; in the ferns, shining sleek across Rosenskärm, even staining the autumn coat of Reyson by the time they were finished.

Good travel to Rey-son! Rosenskärm will see jagermann again, ja? A hopeful look crossed his bloodied face, which was admittedly eerie in the starlight.