Razorback Ridge Put me back in my grave

He hadn’t noticed the stranger’s approach, too caught up in his thoughts, and he cursed himself for it. How could he protect the others if he was so easily distracted? Then again, his preoccupation had been for a good reason—so maybe he shouldn’t be too hard on himself. Right?

Dipping his head in greeting, he licked his lips clean of his kill, hoping to appear at least somewhat presentable. A quick rinse in the nearby stream would do him good before he returned to the settlement.

“Hello there.” His own tail raised and waving lazily.

At the mention of his kill, his gaze dropped, and he chewed his lip. Maybe this man could help him. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“I didn’t have a purpose for it at first—it was kind of a senseless kill, really. But its fur is nice… warm-looking. I figured it could make a nice thing to snuggle—” He cut himself off with an awkward laugh. He sounded ridiculous. Hastily, he pressed on. “What I mean is, there’s a young pup who could use it for warmth. Not that I would… you know, use it like that.”

He turned back to the man. “I am Noctaryn. Would you happen to know a thing or two about this? I am…not very handy out here in the Wilds. I come from the land of humans, unfortunately I am very much without skill.”