Stone Circle I'm no King, but my father was

Sven carried in his maw a rabbit he had just caught. The steam still coming up from it's innards that he had spilled as he walked towards the cache in the crisp morning. The late summer sun was beginning to hide and that autumn chill was swarming them in a variety of ways.

His paws were cool against teh grass, but soon it would be warmer than he was ready for in the day and then cold again at night. It was coming.

He held a jaunty gait as he walked. Humming past the fur.

@Foxglove

Foxglove wasn't sure she liked this strange, cold place. Mama had lived here once — but that had been a long time ago, hadn't it? And these wolves who led the pack...

Sven intrigued her most of all. He'd said Mama was his sister. Foxglove only vaguely remembered Uncle Everett, but she remembered that she had loved him very much. It felt naive to hope that Sven might become important to her in the same way, yet she did.

So maybe she was looking for him. Not that she would ever admit it. Foxglove feigned surprise when their paths crossed, ears standing tall at the sight of him. Hi Sven! Whatcha doin'? Her tail waved merrily as she stepped toward him.

Reverie and Sven were not blood. But that mattered to star kissed boy not at all. His fadir had adopted her and so she was family.

A small smile and a huff. He lay the hare at his feet. Heya Foxglove.

A shift a lift if paw to scratch his ear. Thrn a nod.I was hunting.