Fairspell Meadow young blood

Someone drew up beside Henry, startling the yearling into a jump and a nervous little chuckle that bubbled from the back of his throat. The wolf was handsomely coated in warm autumn colors. He asked if actually liked the berries that stained his white chin. At once, the young Blackthorn boy felt like he must have looked a bit silly. No sense in lying on a curious question, though.

I do. They’re sweet and some of them burst when you chew on them. Where I was born, there weren’t many berry bushes. Now, it’s like I find them all over the place, Henry answered, tail swishing warmly at his rear. He was all for sharing the bounty that was berry gobbling.