Honeyed Pasture trek along?

delayed again, sorry!

His smile only widened at her recount of many previous victories — he nodded along exuberantly, as though he were agreeing, encouraging her. Then he laughed, A sleep-hunting wolf sounds like a nightmare.

A mischevious look flickered over him, like an older pup scaring a younger sibling, as he continued, wry, Who knows what it would consider prey.

Galen almost thought to offer wiping the blood away, but he hesitated, figuring it impolite company. Instead, he tilted his head, a little surprised; enough so his ears swiveled forward and his jaw fell a little slack. You.. your people, you harvest the antlers like that?

He had seen uses for antler, sure, but for decor, it intrigued him. It was personable in a strange, but wonderful, way. His tail hit the ground with a hefty thump when she served him his portion, a gift he hadn't been expecting. Immediately, he was grateful, having expecting he was just going to have to tear his own piece, or acquiesce that it belong to her pack's territory, or anything of the like. Thank you, Pangur.

He settled lower to enjoy the food allotted to him, but didn't dare begin to eat before she, too, was settled. That would have been most impolite of him. He shook his head at her final words, clearing his throat to avoid a garbled voice, No need, this.. this was enough to repay me.

He tipped his nose toward the buck, continuing, This hunt, it reminded me of things I thought I'd lost. That is plenty.