Sequoia Coast poptarts are ravioli

Artaax doesn’t say anything at first, contemplating the information he’d given to her. He seems to know as little as, or even less, than she has prior to meeting Aviana. She’d had someone to answer a few basic questions and while she still had more, she wondered if anyone explained anything to any of the younger wolves in Drageda. Furi has been around her parents since she’d been young, missing the opportunity to learn from them. Artaax’s family had been strained over the few months with the missing mother and the strain of their family. But she doesn’t say anything and let’s him try to sort what he can.

After a moment, he leans in. Her ears slick back but she doesn’t move, and instead watches as he presses his nose to her shoulder. Furi isn’t aware how much is lingering in her fur except when she catches the wind a certain way but Artaax follows along her back to take in.

Furi shifts a bit as he trails down her back, watching, and halfway down she turns to put teeth on his cheek. Gently, she nibbles at the base of his muzzle with her incisors; not a warning, or plea for him to stop. After the last few frustrating days, and being rejected by Aviana, it’s a nice sort of comfort, if not a little weird. ”I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t think I’m old enough,” she says, letting go of her ministrations. Aviana said when women are two and Furi is barely a yearling.

Whether or not he keeps investigating, she rolls over to her side with feet pointed toward him, but open enough to explore.