Emberwood hellbender

Their eyes widened a little as they processed his method. It didn’t sound particularly pleasant. They snorted at the frank way he spoke, appreciating it. In fact, it was really nice having an actual, articulate conversation with somebody. They were pretty rare at the rise.

I prefer the idea of learning from someone else, rather than learning through trial by… Masque snorted again. I appreciate that you went through that, so hopefully I don’t have to, they added, grateful and hopeful at once.

Phox shuffled toward a bush, one that Masque may not have noticed before now. Among the small, serrated leaves grew clusters of berries. Some were small, the same color as their mask: wine red. Others were larger and darker. They noticed he chose the latter, plucking them off the bush with his teeth and chewing them with enthusiasm.

Tentatively, the yearling reached out to sniff, then lick a single blackberry into their mouth. It yielded so much more quickly to their teeth than meat, bursting against their tongue. The flavor was not to their taste. Masque’s entire face wrinkled at the tartness. Still, it was good to know they could eat these if absolutely necessary.

There’s so many, they observed after swallowing. Even if all the prey died, I feel like I could live on this bush. I’d rather not, though, they admitted with a dry laugh, crinkling their nose again before demonstrating their continued gameness by asking, Are there any others we could try?