Storm Watch Butte A little party never killed nobody.

the amazon was not the only soul feeling her patience wane. the hope in soto's eyes extinguish as she throws back her head in a howl meant to summon anyone else; the power and dissonance of which causes soto's ears to pull back in a flinch.

he looks to the boy, then back to the pelt. grabbing it between his teeth he thrusts it at their feet, motioning with a paw the now faded scent lingering along one edge of soft skin.

then he shrugs; for if they cannot understand one another, they cannot progress.