Blacktail Deer Plateau the witching hour

i suck at everything

had lasher known what sort of escapades finley was fond of, he would have demurred to be invited on such adventures. he was not a judgmental creature, but such exertions were beyond him. giving a snort of laughter at the girl's description of young osprey as a 'midget,' taltos lifted his muzzle to scent the air.

keen eyes sliding along the horizon, he was at length rewarded with the small movement of half grown kids in the distance, and dropped into an instinctive crouch. "midget sheep," he whispered to finley, amused already by what her response would be.