frutifae

Mintfang stretched a jaw splitting yawn fell from his maw. He glanced over at Dandelionrush who was still asleep. It was still fairly early in the morning. He slipped out of the den quietly, padding up to the fresh-kill pile. The air was stiff and cold but his pelt kept him warm. He nosed through the prey everything was cold and practically stiff, but he had no right to complain it wasn’t like he was going out and getting the kill himself. Finally decided on a vole and settled into a sunny spot in camp. After the first few bites he felt a familiar body press against his own. “Morning Fangy!” The cheerful voice rang into h