well sheet

He went out to do some scout work, though it wasn't so much scout work as it was trying to track down a small herd of deer that had passed through here, but hell if he knew where they went. The Gambit Briar wasn't really somewhere he wanted to try to hunt. The prickly thorns could be unforgiving, but a deer could clear them in one jump. And he was sure that if he tried, well...he probably wouldn't quite make it. He wasn't the most agile or limber of creatures. Too much booze on his end, it was unlikely he'd clear the jump and he wasn't about to chance it. Instead, he opted to take a detour around the thorns, and as he did so, something close to wet dog smell caught his attention.

Curiously, he sought out the source, ears catching the sound of one of his favorite words. Really, it was a common part of his vocabulary. Peering around the bushes, he spotted a she-wolf that looked worse for wear, and he couldn't help what came next. "You look like you're in a prickly situation."