Morning Crafting

The Archer-Lyall hadn’t done much more than swim out and sleep the last time she was here, but Chips had been pecking at the back of her head and rawking enough to leave her eyes in a permanent squint, scowl etched on her face. So she had set him to keeping an eye out for sharks as she took the swim from the mangroves out to the island where they had first met. She hauled herself from the ocean, fur sodden, breath coming heavily, but it didn’t seem enough to earn her a nap today. Her companion was strutting among other ibis, stretching his now clean wings, no doubt bragging about how regular his meals were over on the mainland since he found the stray wolf. She rolled her eyes with a snort and shook out her coat, the large shiny rock glinting from amongst the underbrush still. She never quite got around to exploring the place.

But again, she was distracted. This time it was the scent of smoke, a smell that once would have sent her high-tailing it to the hills. Instead she moved towards it with some interest, spotting a wolf doing something with bowls and leaves. Now that really caught her attention. "Whatcher workin’ on?" She questioned with some interest, thinking again that she should really establish a fire pit near her den.

"speech".