Groaning as she got up from her place and into a sit to match his own, she grumbles more as she jut her muzzle to the cluster of dark spots of caribou.
Doesn't seem that way.
Cen then spoke of the mirgration. The herd would soon begin their journey southward with the changing of the season.
I leave when they do, despite my wants.She would then answer simply, flatly, yet the way which her ears perked and head tilted left silent question of what he was getting at.
