we got the moves

Clasped between dainty jaws was a particularly round hare, and he was getting ready to prepare a meal for lunch time. He'd taken to roasting them over an open flame, nothing fancy. There was already a fire going outside of the den that he shared with his master, so he simply set up the cooking spit like he had so many times before. Sometimes princess Ophelia joined him for meals, but lately he hadn't been seeing as much of her, and wholly blamed himself for failing in his duties to care for her. So, while he skinned the hare (laboriously, starting the skinning process with blunt claws instead of a blade until he could peel the whole skin away in one go), he wondered to himself what he could be doing to improve. All the while, he hummed a soft tune to himself. By the time the carcass was run through with the spit and set onto the forked branches that held it over the fire, he thought he had a rough idea in mind.

Tipping back his dainty skull, the dark furred waif let loose a quiet howl for the damsel that he was charged with caring for. Lunch would be ready soon enough, and while it cooked they could.. chat. He was not especially skilled at friendly conversation that didn't have lewd undertones and motives, but he wanted to try. The girl deserved better, he knew she was struggling. Lounging a foot or two from the fire, with the overcast sky keeping the strongest of the sun's rays from beating ruthlessly down on his delicate frame, he crossed his forepaws neatly over one another while he awaited her arrival.