Porcupine Ridge axehead

he ate, yes, and after every peck he lifted and angled his head to keep one eye on the beast.

wolves were... intriguing, he'd say, but that'd be a word for his sibling to use. those strange, dirt-based politics were never an interest of his. still, he mustered the will to remain attentive. the eggshell of an idea had begun to crack.

... not the best. yonder added a bit of pomp to his voice, just enough to sound less pathetic. life is... it's difficult for, for my kind.

a lilting croak. he couldn't know if the wolf would hear it as a laugh.

but i'm... i am not really, welcome among them, these days. guess i'm a bit of a lone wolf.

he shut his beak, momentarily unsure whether that was the right idiom to use.