Jade Fern Grove crying spire

A scoff-laugh at his words. She smelled of river water, perhaps. Of pungent mud and wilderness that has now washed all trace of fragrant herbal incense from her pelt.

"And you smell like food." Emerging from the depths, her nose bumps his shoulder lightly before giving her pelt a shake at just the right angle to shower him with a smattering of droplets.

Hunt again? By now, Fúyáo knows their routine. "What you hungry for this time? Bird? Deer?" Her eyes drift back to the water, a smirk stretching her features. "Fish?"