Hazy Shade of Winter
It struck him then that he really had no idea what he was doing, he looked away from the woman, embarrassed with himself and muttered a quiet “I dunno”
He cautioned a glance at her a prickle of self-consciousness climbing up his spine as he told her “I wanna make something sharp, like my dad’s knife.”
His father’s knife had been fashioned from a femur and had made a fantastic tool for stabbing prey although the edge itself left much to be desired. He doubted the antler could be fashioned into anything quite as sharp, but the desire to see it buried in Noir’s side stayed with him. He frowned stubbornly and crossed his arms before laying his head down with a pout. “It’s stupid I know.” He grumbled his tail tapping pensively on the steel ground behind him.
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