Mount Apikuni cat and mouse in partnership

the dreaded question comes and wintersbane lets out a soft, near inaudible sigh. he doesn’t like not having an answer but it was one of the many things in life he had no answer for. i don’t know, he speaks truthfully, frown tugging at his lips. i heard someone call it a warren once and i guess i picked the term up. surely, there was some sort of reason behind the distinction but if there was wintersbane didn’t know. if wintersbane were a different sort of man he might’ve jokingly suggested to thade that they ask a rabbit; but rabbits were prey. food. not something to converse with — in fact the idea was kind of laughable to wintersbane as he considers it for the briefest of moments.

you can call it whatever you want, really. since they — wintersbane, at least — had the tendency of being over specific by placing ‘rabbit’ in front of it. a quirk of wintersbane’s brow is given as he looks to thade at the following question. feces, wintersbane clarifies and then says, just in case: poop.

glacial gaze studies the ground and he stops suddenly, gesturing for thade to do the same. here. see? this is what rabbit poop looks like. he gestures to the small littering of round feces upon the wet emerald grasses with his paw, and taking a small step away to allow for further investigation if wanted. it smells, so it's fairly fresh. that means we're close. wintersbane explains in what he hopes is an encouraging fashion.