There was a bit more scuffling, a few snapped "phrases" and then a silence. The wind whistled over the grasses of the vast plain, dancing round and round, twirling. The wind danced to a tune with no sound.
Then the younger wombear popped up, emerging completely from it's home. It took a few nervous twitches of it's nose before it came forward and took the food, staring up at the stranger.
What was this, then?
---
The wombear shook it's head sharply back and forth to the point it looked like he might really hurt himself.
"No, no, home isn't safe. It's the safest thing I know, safer then out here,"
He looked around nervously, searching the skies for predators.
"Is your home much safer then out here?"
---
Too late, the wombear was running again, but it soon turned around. It bared it's fangs but it seemed entertained, excited even. He'd never taken on something as big as a dalma.
This would be fun.
---
Timber was surprised, but she wasn't about to show it. She stood there quietly, looking at the matches, still glaring.
"So are you just here to catch a wombear, or what?"
Huh? Well it sounded kind of angry... and curious and maybe, no, couldn't be. Well, the wombear seemed interested. Interested in the matches or the prospect of leaving? Hard to say but it seemed... promising?
---
(( Storm air isn't "Smooth", really. It's crackling with electricity and stuff is fluctuating. Pretty sure, anyway. ))
The wombear fiddled with it's hands a moment longer. Then a sudden interrest in it's own paws against the darkening sky.
"Hands are curious. They are tools we rarely appreciate, yes?" That same grin.
"Ah, your home. Hmm, while the offer is rather tempting I think that I should not. I assume that this would be a sort of... contract? I'd go with you and be a sort of..." the wombear again pursed his dark lips, "pet?"
(( Sorry the replies are so short. ))