Eat, relax

Wylan was returning to his comfy little spot on the grass with a plate of food balanced awkwardly between a wing and his shoulder. His steps were measured and careful before he came to a stop, and managed to catch the plate before it could fall.

He placed it on the ground beside him, and playfully swatted at Glacier when his polar bear companion thought he could swipe a piece of dried meat off the plate. ”I already gave you a serving!” he pointed out to his forgetful friend. Grinning, he plunked his bum on the ground beside the food, and snagged a piece of rolled up meat. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it smelled amazing.



"Wylan Fatalis"