Hoshor Plains wild heart

Words were exchanged and Titmouse just sort of.. stared. Back and forth. Kinda like the look that painted Rannoch's face, but much blanker. He didn't remember exactly what had happened in the forest when he'd met Redshank before, and had likely blocked it out - which cause some ire to the dark boy of course. Titmouse had a bad memory though. It was just the way of things.

He did sort-of-vaguely remember the panic, and gave a nod as if to say, oh yeah, yeah that did happen, mhm. Not even an ounce of worry plagued the boy. But Rannoch was talking and the more the older wolf spoke, the more interested Titmouse became in that part of the conversation - until he was wiggling butt-first at the very idea of exploration.

Yeah! Lessgo! I wanna see -- uhh -- see things! An' go climbing! His raspy personified-gravel voice boomed out of his tiny lungs exuberantly, and he bounced around Rannoch with glee.