Herbalists' Cache hold my cup

it is not long before he appears.

onyx fur smelted by silver pushing past the bare brush of her densite. he had been skinning hide from a fox, when she called, and now had it clutched in his jaws as he approached.

he is silent as he moves before her den, carefully depositing it at the foot, stretched out so it might feel the sun's wrath come morning. then crimson eyes swivel to the mouth of the den, where star eater sits, watching him quietly.

he licks blood from his mouth.