101 in feasting

She sighed softly to herself, tail wagging as they browsed the shoulders for anything they might need. Right, if they used the ropes and fashioned them together, that sounded like it would work. "We just gotta make sure that we tie it tight enough that none of the fish get out," Hazel declared, thinking about how slippery fish could be. All wiggly and slippery and stuff... oof. They seemed like they'd be good at getting out of the net, if they really tried, but maybe fish were dumb and wouldn't know they were inside it until it was too late? She could hope. Once it was done being all slippery, big fish sounded like it would probably be tasty. When would it be time for dinner, anyway?

She caught the rope, and did her best to manage the length of it. Why was it so looooong? That's fine. It's fine. The shorter pup was trying to gather herself when Bas took off, and she couldn't help but laugh. "Hey, wait, no fair you have a head start!" Hazel couldn't keep from giggling, though. For as indignant as she pretended to be, the girl really couldn't be upset. Claws digging into the sandy ground, she pushed herself in Basilisk's direction, laughing the whole way.

Stopping was something else entirely, though. With a dull thud she crashed into the side of the smokehouse, falling back in a heap of giggles. At least she wasn't that big and the smokehouse was of sturdy construction... no harm, no foul. Quickly righting herself, she began sniffing around the outbuilding, looking for any discarded bits that hadn't been taken away by predators. Ah-- there. Hazel carefully picked up a chunk of venison lung, wrinkling her nose at the texture. "How's this for bait?" It was yucky, but stinky and iron-y, and maybe fish would like it? What did fish even eat?

"Speech"