When he left the cabin to find two sticks for cooking the rabbits, he could see Ansel in the tent, layingout his sleeping bag. Orion stopped at the opening for a second, backing away when Ansel said “Shoo,” and waved his hand to enforce the order.
“Not fond of dogs?”
“I’ve got nothing against them, once I get to know them. Yours seems a mite too protective for me to feel comfortable with him, or her.”
“Him. His name is Orion.” Hugh snapped his fingers and Orion joined him as he went into the forest. He found the green sticks he needed, returned to the cabin, and started cooking the first rabbit. When fat began dripping, he paused long enough to put on a glove and get one of his tin bowls to catch it. If I cansave this, and it doesn’t go rancid, I can fry instead of using a spit.