Swiftcurrent Creek I don't read the newspaper because they all have ugly print

backdated to around the 20th

After leaving behind the weird debacle at the border, Akavir had gathered the carcass of the porcupine—albeit, leaving behind the meat and organs for their unruly guests—and decided to go see @Arlette.

He didn’t like to admit it—but the one quill he had in his cheek even though pulled by the stranger still stung, and he could feel the swell of it beneath his eye.

Coming upon the den site, the man chuffed a greeting, hoping she would be around. “Arlette,” he crooned, a smirk pulling at his lips. “I hurt my money maker. Help?”