The good thing about being at a camp in the woods, as far as Tyren was concerned, was that he needed neither R'tal or K'ren to be feeling cooperative to take himself on a walk in the early hours. Usually such walks were big treats, allowed only when K'ren was getting back late from an Infirmary shift and feeling awake enough to manage it. For a wher who much preferred being active in the dark hours being able to take himself away on a hunting expedition was a delight.
He was padding back with the remnants of a young wherry still locked in his jaws when he heard something and switched his path to wander towards it. Might be more food, or something small and wriggly to chase and play with or-- or a person. People were good fun; people who were making that strange sobbing noise probably needed help. Or possibly food which, luckily, he had. He dropped the half-wherry at Rhosgen's feet and sat down with a thump. ((Hello.))
Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.