Hideaway Strath it's the god of cigarettes and youth

she was large and scarred.

truthfully he expected her to, well, eat him? he guessed something along those lines. she did not even warn him off. instead she spoke to him with the closest thing he could fathom to be warmth from such a formidable sight.

i didn't mean to — immediately lapsing into blame. what else was new? awkwardly he shuffled his paws against the earth, head hunched below his shoulders. i was looking at plants. i didn't mean to...come this close.

but he kind of sort of had, hadn't he?

his nose was not broken, he could have turned around at any point!

veran. he offered meekly.