Porcupine Ridge Animal impulses

Yeah I know She sighs lightly, a forepaw kicking at the dirt in idle movement. She'd seen him leave in the early morning as he often did; a light sleeper, quick to wake when there was no fur to cushion her.

Just wondered what trouble you've gotten into. The borders have been quiet every time I've gone out.

She made the assumption they were quiet most days, nobody ever came home with stories or with sweet red ichor dripping from their hides. Some days it felt like the mountain fog divided them from everything else.

She paused in contemplation. A familiar feeling washing over her. Are you happy with things?

It was fulfillment she sought for, always. Did he feel fulfilled?