Digging a hole to china

Tove watches the blue boy, the curiosity in his eyes at her voice not escaping the older wolf’s duel-toned eyes. Snorting in amusement, she moves to lay out an area for the boy, directing him to dig within her claw marked boundary. He seems eager to learn and asks about putting sticks in the bottom. The woman shrugs her heavily scarred shoulders and her gravelly voice fills the air once more as she says, “You could but might not kill the prey quickly. Also, more work for you. Work smarter not harder.” Tove swallows thickly, her throat disliking being used so much in such a short amount of time.

She returns to digging the side of the pit opposite the boy and indicates to him the depth it should be. Darting a glance to him she croaks out, “Tove” and gestures a paw to herself. Gods, she has forgotten how to talk to others. Turning her attention back to the pit, the older wolf feels the need to explain her heavily scarred head and shoulders and why her voice sounds so weird. A grunted word fills the air as she glances to the boy and points to her face, “Bears.” Her paw moves to her throat to indicate as well before returning to scooping out dirt from their trap.


"Tove Baade"