Alces Familiaris Gigas

Mac laughed at Grisham's disbelief, "yeah I thought you knew who they were. Or at least had some idea." he said, clearing his throat, "it's why I don't want to have to deal with them." he said.

"meat's big business, even if illegal, and my family aren't exactly the most legitimate people." he sighed, remembering the talk his father had with him today.
 
"Its usually a business for carnivore's. Your family are Moose aren't they?. At least most of 'em look like regular moose." He said, watching Mac closely and increasing their pace.

"Why' d they deal in meat?. That's asking to get eaten." He said then without fear. He wasn't a stranger to black market meat, living in the middle of nowhere meant no one came sniffing about anyway.
 
Mac curled up his lip to show his teeth again, "Only half." He explained. He reached into his backpack and pulled out an antler, his own well chewed antler. He cleared his throat, "Mom's side of the family are moose, and they got into the racket of selling off moose antlers and velvet every year. Moose were more willing to sell to moose, and so there was plenty of velvet and antlers that came every spring." He explained.

"My dad's side are sled dogs, and they're the ones who organize with the hunters. They teamed up so that the moose could convince herbivores to sell parts of themselves or their own corpses, and the sled dogs would sell them to meat eaters." He cleared his throat, "And with their alliance moose are no longer hunted." He added in a mutter more characteristic of his usual speech.
 
"Ah... I thought it was something more shady for a second" Said Grisham, snorting, his tail wagging a couple of times.

They chatted about pretty boring topics, like the weater and the forest's trees for the rest of the way until they reached the wolf dog's home.

It was a stone and wood building, the lights were on inside. Most of it was big, likely fot the sheep to live in, they could both smell them and other guard dogs. Grisham showed Mac a half hidden trail that went around to a smaller building that looked like a home. Lights were on inside, and some music could be heard through the door.

"Go ahead and knock, Olliver is inside. I'll go leave the wagon" Said the wolf before leaving Mac on the steps to the home, alone.
 
Mac laughed at that as well, he enjoyed Grisham's company and the small talk they had. It was nice to not be feared by someone new.

Mac looked over the rustic looking building, nothing like the modern buildings his family worked in the cities, nor the mansion that he lived in with the families. He walked over to the smaller home and looked to Grisham, knocking when prompted, "It's a nice place you got here." He commented as Grisham retreated.

He tapped his foot nervously waiting for the door to open.
 
Inside, young Olliver smelled Mac and Grisham before he heard or saw them. His ears perked up and he sat straighter on his chair. Then came the knock, and he walked over to the door.

"Mac??!" He exclaimed once he opened the door fully, his tail wagging like crazy. Unexpected visits were still welcome, and he was glad to see the other. His smile was wide, and his injury obvious from a simple look. He had a bandaged arm, tightly secured, some words of encouragement writen on the exterior.

"This is a surprise, how come you're here???"
 
Mac grinned at Olliver, one of the few people he didn't need to be shy about his mouth around, he grinned before looking down at the bandage, "Ah, is that why you had to stay home, I met your... Uncle? I can't remember. Grisham." He offered.

"He brought me home to come visit you, felt I could use it."
 
The dog seemed... Surprised to hear what Mac had to say.

"Grisham?, really?..." He said, his brow furrowed. Olliver looked really confused, and for the life of him he couldn't understand how Grisham had even figured out Mac and him were friends.

"Oh, heck, I'm so rude!" He said, standing to the side of the door so Mac could walk in.

"Please, come in. And... You tell me how you even met my uncle, I'll tell you how I hurt my arm. Deal??" He asked, back to his usual excitable mood. His tail was wagging again, and his ears were quirked up and forward with interest.
 
Mac grinned wide at Oliver's excitement, one of the few times he was willing to show his teeth so openly. He walked in to Oliver's living space and looked around, finding a good spot to sit, "well, you weren't at your stall, so of course I asked about you." he explained.

"I didn't exactly keep it a secret, and he invited me over... After my family showed up for me." he added quickly with a cough, "but, it's your turn now, how did you hurt your arm?" he said, hoping to distract Oliver before he grasped on to the salient information.
 
Oliver flushed a little. "Yeah... it's sort of embarrassing." Said the dog, his tail still wagging but more slowly.

"I was helping uh, this friend of my uncle, his name is Red?, we call him Red. We were doing some repairs to the outside of the building, the wind got super strong and broke a few things. And... uhm... well, I got spooked by the sound of the wind, tripped, and fell." Said Oliver, scratching the back of his head. Hopefully Mac wouldn't be too amused by his embarrassing fate.
 
Mac's ears went down sheepishly as Oliver told his story and he coughed, "I... know how that is." He said, clearing his throat, "Just last year I got spooked by the sound of one of my dad's goons crunching on some antlers while I was doing some yard work at home, and I ran over a rake and got blatted in the face." He said, feeling the embarrassment for himself as if the memory had just happened yesterday for him as well.

He cleared his throat, "Anyways, how have the sheep been?" He said, eager to change the subject.
 
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