When Caleb returned to their homestead dragging with him two plump pheasants he’d caught, he found Brance waiting in the open doorway on the side of their stable. Trotting up to his mate, Caleb dropped the birds and sat back to clean the blood and feathers from his nose. Brance sniffed at the birds, then dipped his head to rub against Caleb’s shoulder in an unusual display of affection. Though he said nothing, that touch alone made Caleb preen. He began purring unconsciously, a loud, ragged sound that filled the night, and with each twitch of his tail, his scent wafted around them. It took all his strength to stay seated and not roll on the ground in submission.
::You did good,:: Brance told him. ::But there are only two.::
::I couldn’t carry more.:: Caleb nosed the larger bird toward hi
