Deepwood Weald so blissful i press on

His mouth tightened in momentary offense, but he didn't let it linger, or get to him too badly. He'd been battling the negatives about his snowy coat all his life; he had done just fine, with it. Sure, he wasn't the best hunter, nor could he ever be a capable rogue, at least not in the green and gray of the south--but he had other skills on his side. Swiftness. Courage.

"I am fast, and I've got guts," Phocion responded, backing those character traits up out loud. "If we find something large to catch, I can do the chasing, you can do the ambush." One ear flicked in casual acceptance. "If you'd rather go it alone, I understand."