lick it once, shame on you

The little, scrawny, ragged thing that slunk out from the barn - though he didn't need to be slinking at all, since they were allowed out - more resembled a coyote pup than a wolf of proud lineage and the furtive way he moved was just as reminiscent of those ancient competitors of Wolf, though unlike the more smooth slink of coyotes and foxes he moved with a stiff, jerky, twitchy gait, in sudden fits and starts rather than all at once. Maybe he slunk to avoid his siblings and the possibility of them tagging along with him, but if so it was needless as none of them were even around to see him. When he finally reached the old foundations of an ancient farmhouse, a few of the adults were out and about, though Daemon ignored them in favor of staring with a great deal of intensity at a mushroom. Not, sadly, one of the leftover fungi from the Darkness he had been born and raised in... just a normal, ordinary sort of fungi, but he stared at it as intently as if it had been something that extraordinary. One paw crept towards the fungi, the tip of his tongue sliding between his teeth in a gesture that could have been concentration or the intention to lick it.