Iktome Plains auxesia

Invitations warmed him with beads of guilt.

Somehow it felt like a type of sin to dally. He had not seen his siblings in how long? How much of that time had he spent in a roaming state like a restless sentinel? Maybe the issue was that he was no sentinel, hardly much of a scout in and of itself. Hardly much of anything.

Here was a distraction, temptation, vice. One that called him first before he had called it.

On long thing legs, he danced closer. Weaved through dry long grasses that brushed against his own flaxen underside. A break from himself would be good, no matter if this was a kind face or a snake in disguise. It would have been polite to speak while he neared her —

If only his manners had not roamed off with him, it seemed.