Fox's Glade [m] Two Birds, no Stone

Slowly, slowly, whale-eyed and ridged, Grackle emerged from the den, ears low and tail tucked. A pang struck through her chest- he looked awful. What in the gods' names had happened to him?

Ears perked to the whine in his voice, green irises traveled over the tense posture to come to rest on oak eyes, desperate and imploring. There would be time to ask later.

Ask before you bite, dickhead, she breathed, circling away from the tree and stopping in the middle of the clearing to turn back and face him.

Be careful of my leg, alright? I fucked it up last time. Don't forget your ears, Her voice was soft as she lowered herself into a crouch.

I'm ready.