Big Salmon Lake Why are you hanging on so tight

periane offered a small shrug, soft and slow, her expression gently bemused. maybe a gift, she said, thoughtful as her paws worked the crushed petals deeper into the fox's dampened hide. for neighboring packs, perhaps. a gesture.
her voice carried its usual calm, something serene, as if the gods themselves moved her paws. but i do not have one myself, she admitted with no sorrow, only acceptance. not yet.
she glanced to tiuttuk then, a flicker of warmth catching her pale features in the rising light. some gifts are meant to travel far before they know where they belong.
her tail gave the faintest sway behind her as she resumed her motions. this one will smell like rain and lavender when it’s dry. it’ll keep someone safe. or warm. or reminded of something good.
she did not say who. that part was not yet written.