Blackfeather Woods song of susannah

relmyna allowed herself a grin under his own praise; she straightened and tilted her head to one side before glancing around the enclosure. there was nothing here. the woman rolled her shoulders exaggeratedly and jerked her muzzle in the direction of the tunnel through which they'd both come. maybe he would accompany her back? on a whim, relmyna tentatively approached the spy-cub, lowering her muzzle to exchange her breath with him — if he was so inclined.