Herbalists' Cache with my eagles t-shirt hanging from the door

No, Masquerade said, pausing to ponder and then laughing lightly, I can’t say that I have.

As they reflected on their myriad hunting experiences—none of which had ever required this relatively delicate touch—a frown pulled at their lips. They thought of Avicus, her leg injured and her title compromised. Masque swallowed, thinking of the pups who were counting on them to provide now that their mother couldn’t.

What were they thinking, wasting so much time on this idle project? Masquerade had enjoyed Eshe’s company well enough but they needed to get back to the rise, preferably not empty-handed.

You can take it from here. I have to get going, the yearling said, a little sad they wouldn’t get to see the end result but much more anxious about their family at the moment. Sorry to rush off, I just… I have to go. I hope it works out, Eshe. Goodbye.

And without further delay, the Caru loped back toward home, hoping to hunt up something on the way.