Shadewood you wake on the floor holding a knife, a bottle and a handful of black fur

Riley brushed along Masque briefly, tail low and wagging as she complimented his cleaning skills. He almost replied, but noticed her distracted air — which in turn, made him a little on edge and distracted. She asked if he’d smelled that; he nodded with a thick bolus forming in his throat — whatever it was, it was needling — like a splinter, only in his brain.

He was brought back to by the jostling of her hip against him, something that awoke a deeper sense of urge in him than he’d been expecting. They hadn’t frisked since her unfortunate run-in — as she bent to inspect a dark patch of blood on the earth, Riley gradually connected the dots. Slow as he could be sometime, he’d lived through several seasons now — and began to recognize the tell-tale concoction for what it was. Oh…

Riley pressed his chest to Masque gently then, mindful of her wounded side.