Stone Circle A hunting we will go….

I hope you don't mind me hopping in!

Moss dropped the vole he had been carrying into the cache, ear perking to the call from across the camp. Deer hunting? He tilted his head in careful consideration. It had been nearly a month since he had been welcomed into Kvarsheim, and he had yet to feel he had truly earned his right to be there. Sure, he had kept up with chores and hunting as best as he could, but what were rabbits and mice to deer? Especially with so many mouths to feed? The little wolf found themselves hesitantly padding toward the great man, ready to call out to him... before turning around and heading the opposite direction, head down and heart thumping.
Nope, nope, nope, nope.

What was he thinking? Hunting deer in his condition? Stupid! He would be more of a burden than help!

But what about all of the kids? About Tauris who had been so kind? This would be a great opportunity to show his appreciation!

But that man was so huge and intimidating! What if he got annoyed?

After several seconds of what to anyone else must have appeared to be some odd prey-burial ritual, three steps toward Bjorn, four steps back, seven steps forward, five back, Moss steadied himself with a breath and trotted, more like rushed, to the bear's side before he lost his nerve.

Uh, Hi! Um, excuse me, sir! I... I, uh, might be able to help...? Moss stammered, ears burning as he looked awkwardly at the man and then to the ground between them, painfully aware of how small and frail he was compared to this absolute behemoth of a wolf.