-Death's Grove-
"Andras, I-"
"There's a fish in your hair," Andras cut him off, somehow managing to deliver that line with a straight face.
Reqiel's expression folded into one of horror, "There is?! Get it off! Get it off!"
With frantic motions, he managed to swat the weakly flopping fish off his hair, distaste on his face.
"And it was best I kept guard, another wolf could have wandered onto the campsite," Andras said quietly, hoisting his bag on his shoulders.
"Oh," Reqiel muttered softly, wondering how Andras had known what had been bothering him. "But I need to do my part as well," He spoke up earnestly, starting to pack up his bag as well.
"Leave them," Andras cut him off.
Reqiel glanced down at the itchy cotton pants in his hands, a sheepish expression on his face as he carefully placed all the clothes in the fashion of Morgras he had stubbornly gotten from the store.
