Grouse Thicket steel in our veins

Draper was still recovering from his latest dance with death. He'd managed to come away with only a few bruises, lacerations, and puncture wounds. All said and done, he was glad that he'd made it out alive. If he could avoid that sort of scenario again—but who was he kidding? Half the wolves that wandered the earth wanted to kill him, and he'd started to accept that it was just the way things were. Nothing to be one about it except get better at assessing the situation (and slipping out of it when the going got hairy).

He painstakingly made his way through a dense forest today. The thing was a goddamn labyrinth if he'd ever been in one. Draper was glad he didn't actually have anywhere to be. He did think he might return to Broken Antler Fen sometime soon. He had always enjoyed hanging out there. But not before he checked in on Charles, who—while not really a friend—was about as close as Draper had to real company.

His leg got snagged on something, and Draper grumbled.

Can't catch a single break around here.

He was oblivious to the sleeping figure only a few feet away or the other skulking figure nearby.