Swiftcurrent Creek disappointed people clinging onto bottles

Admittedly, Eshe's clean-cut refusal to swear brought a guffaw from deep within Wren's chest. She hadn't the chance to ask what was wrong before it was explained to her.
Fermented fruit, much like what Sen-moot had served at Akashingo. She made a mental note to steer clear of that if she wanted to keep her dignity within her pack.
Damn, she chuffs, striding a few paces ahead of where Eshe had pointed. Purple-red splotches stain the grass in a lumbering path headed towards the treeline, and in a clump lays a patch of tawny fur. S'a rabbit. You think it's worth it?