Beast And Meat

Their walk held no conversation. A comfortable silence proved well for Khranbari. If she did wish to speak, it would not be he who would initiate the first world. Instead, he kept to the confines of his thoughts. Attention shifting about in different directions. Taking in all that the area had to offer. A scampering rodent trying to rid itself from view. The circling of crows following the scent of a freshly dead carcass just ways behind them. Tree branches swaying endlessly in the autumn winds. Everything seemed to have a purpose in life. And yet he did not. What was the reasoning in planning out anything if they usually never came to be done?

Khran chuffed out a noise. It was quick and beneath his breath. Not wanting it to be an indication catching her attention if anything else. He simply followed beside the earthen woman. Realizing she too hadn't sparked up anything besides having asked if he would join her for a drink. It bothered him none and before he knew it they reached the waterfall's edge. His gaze watching the way she drank. Tongue lapping delicately at the water. Dripplets falling from her chin. No longer did her muzzle hold the blood from their kill. Now gone and staining the liquid surface below. He was in no rush as he waited his turn. The moment she stepped back is when he moved forward. Unlike her, his way of drinking was a bit... sloppy. Not really caring if the blood washed away or not. Even though he knew it would with how he satisfied his thirst. Licking away anything that appeared left. No longer thirsty and completely full, a yawn broke his jaws in half. Sleep knocking at the door behind his eyes. Today started off long and the hunt took a bit out of him. Luckily coming out victorious without any injuries.

So lost in thought, he nearly missed the last of her words. She'd spoken? Liquid golds flickered to her solid yellows. Varushka was her name. Khran repeated her name a few times in his mind. Enjoying the way it felt as he did so. "Khranbari.. Like the fruit." One thing was for certain, he did not know why his parents had called him Cranberry and spelled it differently. Perhaps it was because they were bitter and tart. Two things that he could be. But he chose not to.
"Speech"