Hideaway Strath tap the vein that bleeds

He was about to give his name—deciding the conversation might as well end here, when the other offered him a place to stay in their ranks. His jaw clipped shut with obvious surprise, and his wolfish brows arched upward in mild scepticism. He hadn’t been expecting this visit to turn into such a conversation, and he was even more surprised by the invite after his previous admission.

“Uh…” Canting his muzzle slightly, the Ostrega cleared his throat, resisting the urge to give a quick shake of his pelt to help eliminate the awkwardness of the scenario. “I mean, yeah—definitely. I just didn’t expect that, is all… It’s Pippin by the way.”

He paused, his gaze drifting between the male before him and the land behind him—what kind of impulse decision was this? “How can I start making it up to Towhee for last time?” Redemption wasn't necessarily something he believed in, given his past. But he could at least make an attempt. Another winter as a rogue didn't tempt him at all.