Porcupine Ridge ouroboros

Loyal Muskrat, first on the scene. He didn't recognize her at first, staring glassy-eyed at the diminuitive woman before his gaze sharpened slightly into something more coherent. It helped that she spoke in hushed tones, taking him to her breast in comfort.

Home. Home.

Lost inside the mountains, Hex replied in the barest whisper, voice muffled against her pelt. Dark. Spirits. Hungry, he added, and as if on cue, what was left of his stomach chimed in with an audible gurgle.

He attempted to take stock. Muskrat. Golden Eagle? And—

The girl? he asked, and a strange feeling of panic rose in his breast, as if she too had slipped away in the tunnels. He'd lost much down there—but that, he could not bear. She's here?