Honeyed Pasture kitchen fork

Moondoe dragged her tongue across her muzzle, licking up the blood splattered there. The doe was gone, and she sent her thanks to its spirit. She would feed them well tonight.

Vairë focused when her hunt partner spoke, releasing a curious hum as she tilted her ears towards him. She lifted her eyes from the doe, turning to the dark shape.

My thanks to you as well. Was this not her brother? The Lómion that had once been so intrigued by her fox pelt? Maybe she was mistaken, the memory turned to ashes in the wind.

She pressed on anyway.

You may have as much as you like of it. The rest will be returning with me to my home.