Fox's Glade all i've got is instinct

Ink didn't miss the woman's clear apprehension of her movements. She chuffed quieter, and nudged the food again. Then with gentle paw steps she backed up again, out of her space. She knew what it was like to always be on guard. To always be afraid someone's paw would end upon you with anger and hurt. Or Teeth that bit. Angry words that spit.

Inkeri was well aware. And it hurt her heart a little to know that someone else had gone through something whether as constant as she and Anja or simply a little bit. But that made it no less horrifying.

She tried the common tongue again. Eat. Followed by her own language. Spise