Cedar Sweep ambience

When she didn't bare her teeth at him, he relaxed an inch. She didn't demand anything or deem this tree her property, which was nice. She hadn't noticed the bone yet, which was also good; in fact, her interest was in the branch and the branch alone — which was outright bizarre. But, if it meant he could keep his food to himself, he didn't mind.

I... I live here, I guess. His gaze was downcast after he said this, as his nervous demeanor overwhelmed his social skills. He didn't mention anything specifically after that and appeared to wall himself off, curling tighter upon himself. His eyes flickered in the direction she had indicated but he didn't seem aware of anything for a few minutes.

Absent-mindedly he looked at her chosen branch and muttered, That's a deodar. Smells good. A shift of his body, while his face retained the look of unrelenting sorrow and the gaunt affect of someone who was on the borderline of starvation, soon. Good choice fer a den.