Blacktail Deer Plateau Husks and shells

"You'd be correct," he agreed laughingly. He could see how burning off his fur might actually work, though Peregrine failed to see any logic in being beaten with sticks. He supposed it was comical, in any case. "I'd prefer a method that didn't result in bodily injury."

Finley trailed off into thought and Peregrine waited patiently, taking the opportunity to nibble at a few itchy spots on his right shoulder. As soon as she spoke again, he straightened and looked at her. She proposed a mud bath. He turned this idea over in his head, wondering if it would drown or suffocate the fleas... or maybe both simultaneously? Was that possible?

"Now that one won't hurt to try," he replied. "Literally." His eyes tore away from Finley's face and began to comb the bank of the little brook. This little stretch was small but running rapidly. What he needed to do was find an eddy where he could stir up some mud.

Glancing back at his companion, he said, "You may want to join me, you know, as a precaution." Lips twitching, he then began to roam along the creek, searching for some mud soup in which to soak.