herb sweet home

Climbing is in Ricin’s blood and, despite his height, the blue wolf is surprisingly agile. Whenever he needs to think, the light blue man can often be found treading the small goat paths up the towering mountains of his home. That is where he is now, paws picking their way carefully down from the dizzying heights above the caves when a strange, yet not unpleasant smell, finds its way to his nostrils. Pausing mid step, butt up on a higher ledge than his front half, the crimson eyed wolf casts his gaze around in search of the source. Down, in front of one of the caves entrances, he spies a figure made of cream and slate.

From his perch, Ricin observes the male making himself what appears to be tea and, curious to meet the stranger, the blue hued wolf resumes his climb down. Once he is back on flat ground, he turns to where he had seen the stranger and swiftly moves toward. Ricin quickly arrives at the open area and stops a respectful distance off. Politely, the blue wolf clears his throat in hopes to gain the stranger’s attention and says, “Excuse me. I don’t believe we have met. I am Ricin. Would you mind if I join you?” As he speaks, his ruby eyes trail down to the bowl where hot liquid steams in the chilly air. Finishing, his gaze snaps back up as he offers the stranger a friendly smile.