Barrow Fields and drawing lines around my body to recall my place

He nods as he listens to him. His mood only slightly souring when he mentions being from up north. Donovan doesn’t even know which way The Abbey could even be. He was conked out before arriving here and he has little to no memory of the happenings before he woke up here. Of course, he corrects himself. It’s not their fault that Donovan’s going through what he’s going through with his not-to-existent pack. Still, the other has no specifics to share. Or none relative to him at least.

At the mention of their father bearing the same markings as him he chuckles. “Ah.” He exclaims easily. “My mother was the dog half.” He shares, catches the others eyes fleetingly looking at his pelt. Then Donovan puts on a shit-eating grin and preens. “Isn’t it?” He boasts referencing the pattern of stripes that go every which way song his body.

Then all of a sudden, the male remembers why he’s even over here. The doe. With an internal sigh, already assuming the doe is long gone, he steps a few paces over; its a enough to see the spot she’d been moments before. To his luck she’s only a couple meters off from where he originally found her. Grazing softly on grass and any shrubbery that sits near by, she goes about her merry business. 

Turning to face them once more he smiles easily. “Wanna hunt this deer with me?” He asks shamelessly with a curt nod in the animals direction.