Blacktail Deer Plateau cubanisto

Getting back into the Pura swing of things. I literally have no idea what I'm doing, so prepare for character inconsistencies for a while.

Settling back into pack life was sometimes impossible, sometimes a breeze. With a healthy dose of solitude to compare it against, Pura could say with certainty that he liked to belong. In theory, anyway. The reality of twenty other voices and bodies and catalogues of scents was a little overwhelming, and he found himself sticking to the edge of the plateau.

The stark, wintry sunshine made Pura appear almost blue. He had taken to resting with his paws over the plateau's ragged edge, mentally preparing himself for another reintegration effort. Blue, maybe. She was always so kind.