Dragoncrest Cliffs in terms of tacos, she was doing fine

She catches Blixen from the corner of her eye but she doesn’t stop scratching right away. Her face twists in a weird mix of relief and pleasure and she has to force herself to stop when Blixen plops down beside her. Her foot slowly lowers to the ground. She twitches with the urge to scratch again but she tightens her jaws and roughly sighs her frustration. “Whadya think it is?” she says, resisting the strongest urge to go back to her neck. She can feel the burn of broken skin and it stings of relief. “Allergic to cold,” she says with a snort, amused (albeit a little worried) at the thought.

Blixen vaguely mentions the other day and she offers a hint of a smile. She isn’t so sure she wants to talk about it anymore but it has remained a constant presence on her mind. “Yeah,” she says, but before she can say anything else her foot instantly starts scratching. After a few strokes, she forces herself to stop and stand, shaking out her fur, and trying to think of anything else.