Woods, woods, more woods . . .
Rock!
Bear bullshit, fox bullshit, bickering, whispering, snuffling in the dirt . . .
GIANT DOG!!!!
Fuzzbug bullshit, fox bullshit, dog eating bear . . .
I couldn't burn the dog. Not even a little bit. Dog was eating bear skull, dead bear means dead me.
Not burning was frustrating. Something was protecting the dog. The Fletcher!! It had to be her! Was this a test for me? Fuzzbug had charmed the dog to understand human tongue. So I had to negotiate.
"Don't eat the Bear, he's punchy and not good food. Eat tasty Mister Scabbs treats procured fairly from Bear's food sack."
If this was a test from The Fletcher, I surely passed. The Bear was no longer being eaten and it turned out that the dog was a mom dog with widdle puppers. They were actually really nice to me and watched everyone sleep, except for me cuz I don't sleep. But they mostly watched the bear cuz he was only mostly dead and needed the most sleep.
YAY DOGS.