Redsand Canyon the ritual pyre's sending smoke to the sky

Perhaps Donovan was manipulative. Perhaps not.
Derg felt like he owed it to him, and seeing as many disliked him, he wanted to look after him.
To help lick his wounds to keep them clean, to help share the burden of leading a pack.
Perhaps Derg had manipulated the brindle man, with sweet nothings, sultry looks and playful teasing.

He hummed low, now laying down in the shallows, letting soft ripples seep up and down his sides.
"Not on that day," nor the days after that, but he couldn't be bothered to say as much.
"Though I have since. And made him throw up," a soft, regretful smile pulled at his features.