Sleepy Fox Hollow Last long enough to go extinct,

Etienne ate his fill. And then shifted away from the carcass. His own paws and muzzle stained red.

A swift stretch and then golden gaze fell upon Anselm. I'll 'elp you cac'e dis, den try and 'unt some 'erbs. Not mamy to be found, but still wort' de look.

Fur cleaned to a grim shine, Anselm set his gaze from his work to the healer. A grunt was given in response; together they would cache the remains, and then go their separate ways. 

He was not yet so comfortable as to offer his help in herb gathering, and so, offered nothing. 

It would take time, this tenuous and strained relationship of theirs. 

Once the deer had been interred in the cold loam, Anselm shook the dirt from his ruff and set to the borders to patrol, leaving Etienne to his hunt for wares and his mind to wander.