Honeyed Pasture trek along?

The golden stretch of grass was something to behold, even in winter's grasp, which squeezed so tightly the fronds into the earth; yet little yellow bridges still fought through it, here and there. It was like something out of a childhood, a rolling field of snow and softness to run through, to feel the bite of cold and the foolhardiness of life.

He had walked a while, only pausing as the dusk settled on the meadow like a whisper. He sat, sighing out a frosty breath. Galen shook his head, knocking flecks of snow free of his snout and head. He didn't know where he was going exactly, almost following the sun on his back - searching.

His stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten since morning, and there were no streams around for him to fish from; as far as the eye could see. He snorted to himself, he didn't have the best chances anyway. He could see dark shapes far ahead, snow and lowlight glinting off their backs too. A pair of mule deer, maybe.

Pangur too, stalked the beasts ahead, albeit from a different angle; she followed tracks that had been there since the previous day, all the way from the forest of Forneskja. Light feet caught up with them quick. Nobody would be angry at a hunt or two outside of the territory; all it meant was that Pangur had a much more tiring trip back home, hauling her kill.

By now, she'd come a little too far to be satisfied on rabbits. She kept low, and within her own cover; the tall grass a blessing as it defied winter's touch. Ahead, a buck! antlers barely visible from here, it grazed alongside a partner, backs slicked with evening frost, twinkled as the setting sun cast rays of gold and purple.

A fine huntress most days, but ever too zoned in, she startled when she noticed the other hunter nearby, cloaked in a gold more brilliant than her own. The rustling of her misstep alerted the deer to their positions, and they dashed in mere moments. Pangur's ears flattened to her head, and she whipped back around to look at the stranger, almost menacing for a moment.

Ah! Hallo! She greeted with a cheery twinge, now that silence was not needed, and began a slow trot over. Pangur was not one to give up so easy.

The start of the deer across the pasture was enough to startle him too, his head whirling to the sound that had firstly disturbed them. His foul luck made him fear for the worst, a bear or cougar on a late night prowl - one hungry enough in winter's landscape to try for a wolf. Instead, he was relieved, as the opposite stranger perked up.

Immediately, he was given to relief. It threaded tension away from his shoulders and spine in an instant, morphing from something wary to something warm. A respite from the frosty air. The merest of company was welcome on such a dusk as this.

Hello! He replied, brows raised as he smiled, all without teeth. His ears folded, a tick meek. I apologize if I interrupted your hunt.

Pangur shakes her head in response You did not! She assures with a rise to her voice, almost melodic, a light, carefree cadence on her tongue as there always was. They can still be caught, no? We just walk further. She would shrug, hazel eyes trained now on the horizon, whose golden glow bathed the land; all beauty such as that; the work of the gods. Her placement here, to hunt alongside a soon to be not-stranger, the will of the gods.

Pangur's reverence was silent, a thought dancing away in her mind.

You will come, yes? We can split it between us! Already she bounded ahead, the illusion of choice offered to him while really she just ushered him to follow. There was more than just invitation in her voice, there was challenge, playful and light, eager to be met. Over the shoulder, she called with a grin What are you called? I am Pangur!

The light optimism of the other was deeply welcome, swaying his otherwhile worries out of mind in an instant. Galen dipped his head in agreement, they were unlikely to move far, given the dark hour fading, and they had startled merely at a sound, and not the sight of the hunter on their heels.

He was already rising to his paws even as his face then drew into a meek expression - her invitation had been so casual, he could hardly bumble out a: I've always been more of a fish—

Galen was quick to follow, embarrassed clumsiness fading the further they moved. His tail swept in wag all the while, excited by whatever little adventure had happened upon him by mere fortune. His voice was sweet, clearly genuine and amicable, Pangur? I am Galen!

tag for ref >:)

Galen. Now not-stranger. Pangur's face could only hold so wide of a smile, she was invigorated! Now with company to help with the takedown. His friendly greeting was a warm delight in Pangur's eyes, an expected outcome, always; someday it would get her into trouble but ah- Pangur was too lucky for that...

She catches his previous mutterings and spares a glance over the shoulder, a quirked brow and narrowed expression given his way. You have been a fish? She remarks quizzically, but could not keep her teasing grin from showing. JAt least she made herself laugh.

Ah what luck of hers! Coming upon a man of his stature, he made a good stand-in for her usual hunting companion @Solharr, she wondered now if he could match him... A trickster's gleam twinkled in her eye as she looked back at Galen's gold-spun figure. Pangur bet he could have wrestled the deer to the ground with ease, while she would chase, corner and disorient, already her mind spun wild with plans!

Do you catch deer much? She questioned with a curious lilt of her head, then looked back down to the tracks that spread out before them. She needed to know what she was working with before she got ahead of herself, a bad habit repeated many a time.

Galen sputtered a nonsensical sound, looking every bit abashed with every word he fumbled through. He took it all well in hand, turning the mocking tone over like, well, a fish swimming through a stream. There was little that could offend him, and this was the least of it.

However, even as clumsy as he had started, the wild and fanciful look was one he didn't miss. He was quickly wary for their health.

Not so much anymore,He answered, strides a little smoother now that they had found their pace. His eyes hooked on the tracks but paid them little attention in the moment, tilting his head. I usually hunt on my own.

He seemed a little ashamed, but it was the truth. Galen's strength had never been fully in his speed, let alone while he was but one wolf himself. He had gotten used to not having someone to cover for his weaknesses as he covered theirs. He perked up a little after a moment, light and airy face replacing his brief tension, teasing on his own behalf, I hope that doesn't disappoint.

Pangur listened while they walked, slowing her own eager pace a little, it would do them no good to startle the deer again once they finally caught up. She liked the way he stumbled over his words, it must not have been often that others made his company; a notion confirmed as he spoke of his solitary hunts. She held no judgement despite what the shame that touched his voice, Pangur still burned bright with hopeful optimism.

It is no problem really! She says assuringly, shaking her head. We will be lucky, you will see. Pangur's jaws widened with a grin, she spoke with a playful sort of certainty; sure, the buck's hooves could easily crack a skull, though she remained unbothered by the dangers. She had hunted enough deer, both before and within Forneskja.

I will chase when we find them, I can slow it down, and keep its attention on me- its antlers spared just for her. She would be taking them home when all was said and done! She needed to earn them. -You can come from behind it, all you must do is shove it to the ground, and ah, maybe bite a few times for good measure.

Her tail swished and skimmed the top of the snow as a wave of ease settled on her shoulders. You agree?

Her words of assurance he took well to heart, paws feeling a little lighter around her exuberance, an aura like sunlight that refused to falter. After his fair share of stone-cold wolves out in the lonesome straits, it was a wonderful change.

He adapted to every moment she slowed or hurried, always sweeping a little out of his desired path to ensure he didn't bump her. Galen was nothing if conscious of other's spaces, it was a wariness he would always bear with him. He nodded as he listened to her plan, grateful she laid it out for him in clear words, no drama, no complexity - simple marching orders. That much, he could do his best to fulfill.

He looked almost thoughtful. Sounds good to me.

He tossed her an appraising, almost respecting look. They had yet to hunt, yet to fail or succeed, but one thing was certain, You're quick.

His ears swiveled to the pasture around them, eyes now scanning past her to ensure they didn't stumble through the dark onto their quarry. He offered his trust to Pangur, and he needed to enable her.

She did not make dodging her path easy for him, she was a bit of a drifter, and terribly prone to sharp redirection as soon as something caught her ears or her eyes. She would make him dance around her steps, while completely unaware that she was doing so.

She was happy to hear his agreement, matching his appraising look with a grateful one of her own; she gave a quick dip of her head and turned back to the trail before them.

The tracks split into a fork as they reached a dip in the rolling hills, and Pangur would halt entirely to examine each trail. She took in what little she could gleam from scent, trying to determine which set was worth their following.

It was winter, a chip of luck on their shoulder, the cold and snow made hungry deer extra weak, but which was weaker? This, she determined from the distance between each step, along the right, the distances grew smaller and smaller; the buck had ceased running, which meant it was closest to them.

Best to be quiet, now. Pangur shifted her tone to a low whisper. One is close now- maybe just over the hill. Walk slow. even with the softness of quiet speak, she could hardly contain the excitement stirring in her heart.

Like mountain cat, she lowered her frame to stalk up to the peak of the hill, where prey was turned around, focused on scraping snow off a patch of grass. Now or never, in an open space such as this; Pangur gave a quick look to Galen before launching herself down the hill, letting the momentum carry her closer and closer. Even when the deer noticed, it only managed a few strides before she was snapping at the backs of its heels, but even that was not her goal; Pangur sprinted until she could wrap around the side, boldly shoving her frame into the flank of the deer to turn it.

The waver of their paths made him stumble over his paws until he had warily gotten an understanding for how she moved - more akin to a carnivorous sparrow than a wolf, fluttering at any given change; but not to flee it, to meet it. Which was a curious and dangerous inclination in itself, Galen marveled.

Any pauses she made he echoed her silence, patient eyes and ears scanning around them - not wanting to help her leap before she looked. They could have stopped a hundred times, and he would await without a sound. Any changes to the tracks he took her assessment for it, sparing them only a glance and sniff before he was following. At the very least, he couldn't be blamed for leading them astray.

Galen's self-humored smile faltered as she murmured to him, to which he responded with an almost inaudible hum. He was reminded now, as he tried to keep himself low and quiet, how much his golden coat contrasted against the pure snow, as well as how long it had been since he had hunted a deer truly.

The instant Pangur was off, he didn't hesitate on her lead - loping through snow after but a moment, and taking full advantage of the path she had already cut over the hill's peak. He caught the shape of her checking the buck, watching its long branch-like legs stumble and turn - Galen was quick to adjust, snapping out his path, thanking the grasses for the way they resisted the snow, allowing him to mix his silhouette against the white. The deer was already too disoriented to notice his hurried steps, a credit to Pangur where she harassed it. He could already see its pace flagging, and the moment it crossed his self-decided mark, he broke into a run, readying to bunch up and leap for its hind. He would prefer for them both, that he didn't screw up and leave them at a game of chewing legs.

Pangur continued to make bold moves, trying to trip up the buck in his path, to make it all the more easy for Galen to bear down on it. Harass until it could take no more!

The buck's patience wore thin, and it struggled to shake the Náttfari from its trail; she blocked it from moving to the treeline, shoved it each time it got too close; much to her own risk, though even when she tumbled, she was quick to leap back up and close this distance again.

When they had run in another circle, the buck decided to hold his ground, antlers angled forward, thin limbs stood firm in the ground. His energy waned, even with this strong facade he played.

It was a good thing that wolves were built to outlast, Pangur even moreso, blessed by the gods with vigour unending. Hazel eyes stared intensely, looking for an opportunity in the split seconds that the buck would rear or turn his attention to the larger of the two. When she found it, she struck right for the throat of the deer, trying to pull him down at the side so that his legs could not batter her body.

He fought hard despite his fading energy, it was now or never for him to be brought down fully. She'd need to adjust her grip to truly tear open a hole for life to seep from. For now she held firm, trying to narrowly avoid thrashing antlers.

The almost reckless abandon with which he watched Pangur's shape appear and reappear from behind the heft of the deer, even going so far as to trip and then rise again, already running - it was almost something to admire. A youthful spirit that couldn't be tampered, running the long race and winning every time death missed its bite. The instant the buck had slowed, coming to halt and shake its antlers at the hunter, Galen was within reach. 

Still, he bode his time, growling and snapping - watching it wheel around and around, shaking antlers and stomping. Hooves kicked up snow, trampling golden grass and frost into a muddy, terrible soup beneath it. He could only imagine how slippery the earth had become. The instant the whites of its eyes flashed toward him, and Pangur lunged; Galen hurried forward himself, watching the buck torn between the very present pain and the threat of the second wolf just behind.

Galen leapt up, front paws hooking over its back as he took to its opposite side, mouth failing to find purchase on anything but pelt, before a second try rewarded him with blood running over his tongue, of skin rending beneath teeth. The instant his hindlegs touched the ground, everything in his body pulled and wrenched, sides tensing like wire as he fought against the buck to force its own knees to falter. Pangur had wrung most of whatever energy the wintertime buck had, but they still faced the brunt of its desperation, of its want to continue on surviving.

As more back reeled toward him, the buck's legs failing one by one in a terrible chain, Galen stretched just that much further, flattening more of his chest and heft across, as the buck's hind finally fell slipped and fell beneath them. Another bite seized them into a lock - his heart raced in his chest, breath heaving out through his nose and between his teeth, the taste of blood and meat painted his tongue - Pangur had helped Galen remember what it was like to truly hunt, as a wolf was intended.

He was elated, excited, all of the action of moments before sunk into his mind, and above all, he hadn't yet failed. Though his jaw ached and his body began to complain, he held on, fighting and toiling to keep the buck hindered; waiting for Pangur to seal its fate, confidence in this sparrow-like spirit holding strong.

Further weight came down heavy on the other end, forcing thin legs to scramble against the snow and finally- finally buckled. Around them, a splattering of crimson dotted the snow, painting their battle into the earth with each stroke their bodies as they tore through the snow and mud.

Pangur did not waste the moment that Galen had given to her. A killer's instinct in her eye, she rescinded her grip, pulled back, and lunged for the softest part of the neck, opening it up to the biting winter air. She stumbled back, the deer wildly shaking her off in one last act of desperation, its antler cutting upwards, nicking a tear just below the huntress's eye; too close for comfort! Pangur was once again, lucky.

It was too late however, for the buck in all of his vigour, at least he had gotten some vengeance, left his mark bleeding from peachy cheeks. Its body slid slowly to the snow, weakly twitching until it fell still, asphyxiated.

There was a burn in her cheeks, though she was unable to tell if it was the thrill of the hunt or the sting of the gash across her undereye. She let out a maniacal laugh despite it all, heaving and huffing. Ha! We did it! She celebrated, giving his shoulder a rough shove and skipping a circle around him, her tail raised pridefully.

Then she stumbled again, let her tiredness wash over her; before she could eat, she would have to lay here a minute. She rolled onto her back, staring up at the sky while her breaths came quickly and left mist in the cold air. Her heart was beating a hundred miles a minute, joy, a warm feeling in her chest. She let out a soft groan.

Pangur moved like a whirlwind. Galen had barely been catching his breath when the beast fell still, his wild eyes cast to her, worry written on his face  — even with the blood marring both their snouts now, there was no missing the ragged mark the buck left. He had gone to say even a syllable, before she was already up and laughing and celebrating. The glee was infectious and instead, he laughed himself, a merry sound, tail sweeping behind him, And multiple trophies to show for it!

They were mostly unharmed, and Pangur had shown her injury like nothing more than the color of her own coat; he could let the concern slide into elation for a few moments, at least. He jostled with her shove, but showed no discomfort, chuckling himself, especially when she spilled out on the ground, sounding more like an old man than himself. He still felt a sense of disbelief, but the evidence lay just a pup's skip from them.

He sunk down on his own haunches, breath still huffing between his teeth like the bellows of a fire. He always ached worse the next day, and he could already feel the way his shoulders and jaw had stiffened. He tipped his own head up to look at the blooming stars, and shook his head and neck out, letting out a relieved sigh. 

You are quite the hunter, Pangur, He commented in the declining stillness. He swept his eyes to the buck, marveling at the wound he could see even from where he sat. He chuckled again, eyes twinkling with humor, and much faster than I.

Had that been me— He raised a paw to gesture to her injury. — I'd have one less eye.

Ha- Pangur let the air escape her lungs in hefty exhales, each less intense than the last. With a hup-, she rolled onto her side, runner's limbs all tangled on the way down, though not for long before she would pull herself up from the sweet, comfortable ground.

She came to sit by the felled beast, reaching a peachy paw out to nudge at its unmoving hide. Well I have done it for a long time, since I was just young. Alone and with others, many many times before. A smile always found a home on her face, but now a heat came to settle upon her cheeks too, oh sweet flattery! her heart fluttered like a butterfly taking to wing. Surely this fluster was the work of their hard-earned hunt and the burn in her bones. And Hárkonungr has made me work hard, lately. I could hunt in my sleep, I think. She joked, shoulderblades rolling in a shrug beneath wind-tousled fur.

She brought a paw up to her undereye, rubbing away the crimson smear that tore through honeyed fur, a quiet wince on her breath. Eee- I am lucky he only nicked me.

Mischief twinkled in her eye, which she still had by some wonder! She looked to the buck, and that darling set of antlers he'd tried to skewer her with. it is perfect! I think I will hang them above my den. She skipped around the deer, stopping as she reached the head, where she craned her neck down to nudge the bloody spike. It is... revenge. She grinned.

Then she tore free a piece from a far tastier place, with much struggle, but alas- she succeeded. Pangur dropped the meaty backstrap at his feet, her favourite piece of the deer, reserved for the one who had helped her to take down such a trophy. Thank you, for helping me. Take as much as you like! She practically beamed with gratitude, the first part came genuine, bordering on reverence, for Pangur loved others just as she loved the gods, the second part a stark deviation, an announcement joined by the happy flick of her tail. She tore a piece for herself as well, and sat down to recuperate before she would have to haul the deer home. She hoped he had an appetite, it might've made it lighter.

I will have to repay you, sometime She says between mouthfuls.

delayed again, sorry!

His smile only widened at her recount of many previous victories — he nodded along exuberantly, as though he were agreeing, encouraging her. Then he laughed, A sleep-hunting wolf sounds like a nightmare.

A mischevious look flickered over him, like an older pup scaring a younger sibling, as he continued, wry, Who knows what it would consider prey.

Galen almost thought to offer wiping the blood away, but he hesitated, figuring it impolite company. Instead, he tilted his head, a little surprised; enough so his ears swiveled forward and his jaw fell a little slack. You.. your people, you harvest the antlers like that?

He had seen uses for antler, sure, but for decor, it intrigued him. It was personable in a strange, but wonderful, way. His tail hit the ground with a hefty thump when she served him his portion, a gift he hadn't been expecting. Immediately, he was grateful, having expecting he was just going to have to tear his own piece, or acquiesce that it belong to her pack's territory, or anything of the like. Thank you, Pangur.

He settled lower to enjoy the food allotted to him, but didn't dare begin to eat before she, too, was settled. That would have been most impolite of him. He shook his head at her final words, clearing his throat to avoid a garbled voice, No need, this.. this was enough to repay me.

He tipped his nose toward the buck, continuing, This hunt, it reminded me of things I thought I'd lost. That is plenty.

u are totally fine dont even worry about it <3

She laughs at his jokes, a fit of short-lived giggles echoing between huntress's teeth. Her eyes trail back to the pointy antlers as they rested in the snow. Ah- not my people, really, but it is something my mother once did, she liked to decorate our home with bones of our prey, one for each kill.

It sounds morbid ja? She snickers, well aware of how odd her little family eccentricities would seem to outside eyes. I like to think of it in nicer ways, like ah- it is proof that they lived, and that they helped us to live, too. It is something like a... tribute. She eats away at her portion, scarfing her pieces down like the wild thing she was.

She shuffles over and gets in close again, shoulder to shoulder to whisper her truest goal. And.. I wish to have the nicest den in Forneskja so... A pause as she turned to look back to the unmoving figure of the deer. decor! Though I may have to get somebody tall to mount it... Pangur was particular about how she liked things to be arranged, she'd just finished decorating for a wedding after all.

Ah! But these were plans best saved for when the fur had properly fallen from the bone. The rest of Forneskja would have to make a meal of the deer before she could entertain such thoughts.

He politely rejects her offer of repayment, which brings a gentle smile to rest on her face, he was too nice! What a wonderful stranger to have come upon, lucky lucky Pangur. Nonsense! Here, you take this at least. She pulls off another portion of meat and sets it down for him.

...I must be getting home soon, before they wonder where I have gone. Thank you for helping, it was nice to meet you, Galen. I hope to see you again. Pangur dips her head, turning now to the deer, where she would attempt to shift it onto her back, make it easy for the drag back home.

He listens close, the cultures of others always something of interest to him - even if it was as simple as a family tradition of thanking the sky for its rain. His own childhood and life in his homeland is but a murky memory now, and he was never really sure when he lost it. So, to carry Pangur's memory instead as one of the many things he's learning, he found it joyous.

Not morbid, exactly, He murmured after her, as though he were still musing on it. I think it sounds.. respectful enough.

He flicked an ear, smiling. To be strange is a good thing, I think.

And he meant it wholeheartedly, like the vow of a knight. When she whispered to him, he laughed a loud whoop, and nodded eagerly, full of mirth and without a single mote of derision in his voice. Forneskja must tremble before your decor!

Galen accepts her second offer without complaint, stomach still reminding him of its hunger - but he would be polite, and save it for when she had departed. He thanked her again, a hum of gratitude, the sound of which only echoed a lone traveler's appreciation at respite from a storm. I hope to meet again, too.

Though, his brow knits, and he stands again, uttering a, Please, let me..

Its a thoughtful sound, more in his head than in his voice, as he hurries over to help haul the deer up onto her. He didn't doubt at all she could do it alone, but it was more painless and certainly swifter if he helped a little. He still worried his cheek a little, teeth pressing against his own skin, before he was certain she was all settled, and even then, he asked, sounding troubled. His paws kneaded against the ground uncertainly a moment before he asked, Are you certain you don't want help back?

He took the bait! Pangur fought back the snicker of something devious, pretending to strain further against the weight so that she might steal some more of his time; a scheme or not, she was still truly appreciative of the help, as were her already aching muscles. Her ears flattened back to lay against her skull, her tail resuming its sideways pace. Well, if you do not mind too much... She says softly, dropping a shoulder and sharing the load between them both. Indeed, it was lighter with company. Most things were.

Though- maybe only to the border, Hárkonungr is suspicious of outside men. She gave a half-laugh, easing the topic Or I could introduce you if you like. I have good judge of character, he would trust me. certainty hung on the muse of her tongue, playful as her words might've seemed.

But such a thing is a large commitment, and one not every stray wished for. She was happy enough to have his help and his company in whatever capacity he might've given it. But.. I can always visit too. I will hunt outside the forest more times than just today.

I just mean to say- if you ever need help or want a friend- I am only so far away. Pangur trips on her own words, a grin half-genuine and half-embarrassed pulling at her features. She was terribly unused to the expectations of pack life; expectations like "don't invite every stranger you meet back home", well what if the stranger was nice? so many flaws in the rules, the biggest one, that of expecting a girl such as Pangur not to follow her own whims.

!! I didn't mean to vanish so long !!

Galen took his side of the load easily; not merely just as a test of might, but more attributed to his willingness to help - though certainly, wide paws and shoulders helped. He tilts his head down in a simple, calm nod as he listened to her words. Amusement colored his own words as he commented, Your Hárkonungr is wise.

An untethered soul such as he, had grown much accustomed to the dangers of the road - though, much of them were waylaid by his size and demeanor, he had been younger and far more naïve once; too easily did corrupting forces flock to groups like leeches sensing life. He jolted in surprise at her next statement and too clearly did it remind him of dark fur and a voice like woodsmoke and brotherhood. It tempered his brightness for just a moment, but not into something hurt or discouraging, just something like thoughtfulness.

.. your offering is kind, He answers her after a pause, and there is something like ... something akin to gentle fingers closing another's hands around an offering. It hangs heavy around him for a moment before he continues, I should return in the summer. I am due for the coast.

He smiles and it seems almost mournful, before it lightens, swirls with amusement once more. His eyes trace the shape of her cheeks and muzzle, matches the glint of her eye, before he speaks, Fret not, I understand, I do not think anything could make me forget Pangur.

His steps remained light, or as light as they could be, beneath their shared burden as they moved forward - and he thought, a little bemused, how easily it was, to follow the lines back toward Forneskja.

You are totally good! I think this is around a good spot to fade so last from me here :) I Absolutely LOVED threading with you. Tags for reference!

The burden of their kill felt like no burden at all. Among friends and allies, no weight was one too heavy for Pangur's shoulders. They came now to the cusp of Neverwinter, a warm, cozy hearth only so far away...

I do not think anything could make me forget Pangur. He says. Well she hopes that is a good thing! But of course she knows it is, and she smiles something soft and genuine, a breathy laugh to every word that she spoke. I am glad to hear. I will not forget of you either, Galen. She shifts as they lower the buck, indulging in a quick breather before she must take up the burden herself. Indulging in another look upon his features before... Well, who could know how long. He wore scars around his muzzle, set on a kind face that more than made up for whatever intimidation factor was added by the marring.

To be scarred was to be alive, she reminded herself. The cut on her cheek still burned like a fire.

I hope that you find what you are looking for, on the coast. Pangur spoke lightly, but not without meaning, the beginnings of goodbye. She could not argue with matters of the heart, the places that tethered others. Nor would she. It is that difference that made the world so beautiful. Maybe Pangur will make the trip instead. She winked, and moved to sling the top half of the deer across her body.

One last look, grateful for his company, for his compliments which Pangur would surely weave into her thoughts forever.

Hehe! Watch out for pirates! It is a joke off Pangur's tongue, but it might've had more relevance than even she was aware of. She begins the slow drag back home, not far to clear, now.

She would make a bed of its hide, so that @Callyope and her puppies on the way could be comfortable. Of its bones, she would trade and maybe use one to bonk @Luhtar on the head. The rest, she hoped would feed them all.

And Galen, she hoped she would see again, when the gods willed it.