They were right in the middle of the festival, they'd finished the fights and the hunts and Frith had walked away only slightly sore. That was a lie, he was bruised up, sore, and still recovering from how far he'd pushed himself in the hunt. He'd found a nice quite place to nap after that, with a full belly and some obvious wear and tear on his bedraggled coat he was ready for sleep. The day was still young but he was already asleep before he could even think about that. His chocolate form had curled easily into a loose thicket barely in the border of their home. Hopefully that would deter any of the festival guests from disturbing him much, not that it would keep away his children or pack mates. Not that any of them had a habit of waking him. He'd drift easily into a dreamless sleep, quite oblivious to the rest of the world.
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