guns for hands

Though he was highly ranked, Aesop was new to the pack, and knew little of its customs. Though he wasn't friendless, he still felt as though he hadn't set down roots, like he wasn't established. Roots would lay with time as friendships would come, though, and already he had high hopes. Spectra, for one, seemed to be a prime candidate for friendship. And he was fond of Thistle Cloud, as well as Atreyu and Charon, despite the headaches they had caused.

For now, he could work on something with Spectra, who already seemed rather comfortable with him. He chuckled, low and brief, at her reaction to the dirt. "Just a bit of dirt," he said, placating tone exaggerated, "you'll certainly live, girl."

With that, the Gamma turned back around. He was still pleased to talk with her, but he did not want to sacrifice his productivity for it. He could multitask. "And that ain't no way to treat your elders, but y'don't see me complainin'. I'm diggin' me a den. Somethin' more permanent than where I'd been before."