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the androgyne squints at her. "um," he says, still squinting, feeling himself blush as he processes what she says (and bristle slightly, harmlessly), "i'm - i'm not cute." he isn't cute. he's handsome. he's been over this already with -- it doesn't matter. sunflower's fine. delight marvels at his recent talent for acquiring strays every time he dips past tindómë's borders (quixote and screech notwithstanding) and turns to lead her back into the forest. "i'll give you the tour," he says, glancing over his shoulder with the barest hint of what can only be described as a 'smirk', "our alpha is called morwinyon, his name is mato. you'll meet him sure, i'm soon." it feels a bit weird to be doing this without him here too, but - he can now, that's kind of the point. and he's sure they'll bump into the silvery prince on their way through the forest anyway. his tail tip swishing behind him, delight takes them both home.