T he following text was written by @SilverTonguedOne. He sent this to me, as we talked and decompressed after a weekend of intensity shared with new friends. When I met you a year ago, you were a wounded and distrustful Coyote. Mangy because no one had groomed you in ages. Your ribs showed because your meals came as often as you could steal or scavenge something off the side of the road. Don't get me wrong, you were very friendly and loved silly games like tug of war with my boots. But you were generally sad and suspicious. You had a collar on, but it was old and faded and clearly the owner that put it on you wasn't around enough to fix it. But the one thing that was clear on the collar was the name... A year later, your hair is cleaner, longer, healthier. Your ribs don't show and you don't wolf your food anymore because you're no longer afraid each meal may be the last in a while. Your teeth are clean and healthy. You've had your shots and take your medicin...
Stories from the life and adventures of Ren Laine, resident Executive Pervert, Bootblack, Coyote and event coordinator. [she/her][they/them][that bitch]