Wheeling Gull Isle And I don't even care about what people say

Moorhen shook her head at the boy. "Small sticks will decay. Will bring good earth to islann. You should not worry," she told him, her irritation somewhat soothed by his continued good humor. Lucas was a difficult wolf to be mean to - at least for Moorhen. She turned and indicated the wood pile. "Big piece or trip piece, we gather up to be safe. Small sticks do not hurt."

These were weird things for her to say, probably, but for some reason I got it into my head that I was gonna stick some haikus into her posts so there you go. Anyway. Moorhen didn't really care that much that he was moving small sticks around. She did think it was a waste of time, but she'd decided to forgive the boy for his earlier transgressions. He obviously hadn't done it nefariously, as she suspected of Mou.

"Come help me?" she suggested, giving a slightly less stiff wag of her tail. "I will show - bad sticks."