Iktome Plains no snow here

The inky ingénue tilted her finely-sculpted head from one side to the other, tufted ears drawing questioningly forward upon her velveteen crown as the effusive bard swept her a deep bow and remained there on the ground, gazing up at her with wide, winter-blue eyes. He was a handsome specimen, his larger size evident even given his prostrate position; her seablue eyes roved over him appreciatively, memorizing the unique gradation of ink to smoke that claimed his thick, heavy fur and the splashes of cream upon his chest and lips. His eyes were stunning, even startling — she had wholly forgotten his tender, heat-scorched paws that had brought him to her in the first place — and his genial mien buoyed her heavy heart. Her lips parted in wonder as he continued to speak, but her expression grew crestfallen as he spoke of his “price” — a sum too great for her to afford.

She wanted his stories — his songs. Selfishly, she did not wish for him to carry a message for her — not even if the message were to Amoxtli himself! — for she craved his companionship and his nearness. As she had not done since she was a young and ignorant puppy, “What is your name?” she tried to ask, shaping the words with her reverent mouth as she pushed air from her lungs. It was desperation that had driven her to such an inane attempt, but she was not surprised by her inevitable failure — air and air alone spilled from her lips, and trailed from them in a soft, toneless whine. She could not pay him, and perhaps he would leave her now; hesitantly she glanced down at the shells nestled protectively between her paws, and stepped away from them. Amoxtli had collected them, but his spirit was not within them — she did not need to carry them with her — she forced herself to believe it and leave these relics of the past for the present.

Seelie offered Dagfinn an airy whuff, backing away from him and quirking her muzzle in invitation. In case the encouragement to follow did not get through to him, she danced a ring around him, pirouetting on her catlike paws and bounding westward before circling back to him. Again she backed up a few paces, bending her forequarters to look up at him in turn, fixing him with a luminous gaze of lonely seablue eyes.