Morningside Cuesta conveniently misplacing the steps that i've been taking

If someone had asked, he couldn't say what brought him here. Though, there was no one around to ask him anything, and he didn't know where "here" was, anyway. It didn't particularly matter, so long as there was shelter nearby and plenty of game to run down. Past the river to the south, he expected to find both.

A dismal gray stretched unbroken over the horizon while a thin fog rolled low over the frosted ground. He pointed his nose to the air and soured at the smell of fresh snowfall.

Best to keep pressing forward, then. With a steady but unhurried pace, he made his way towards the tree line.

she had not meant to watch.

but bjarna had never seen a boy so beautiful before, this was certain of. she had seen plenty of beautiful ladies! her mother had been one.

for a moment her heart hurt, then she began to move. loping slowly alongside whatever path it was he was taking, out of reach. yet nor did she hide her presence from him anymore.

for a moment when she first appeared in the corner of his eye, he thought that maybe he had been mistaken and the weather had turned against him

(like everything else)

instead he turned his head and was relieved to find the snowfall was girl-shaped. she was young — far younger than him — but the path she cut beside him foreshadowed her liveliness.

maybe she reminded him of someone, if he squinted just right.  maybe it was himself.

he did not think of that. hey. he swished his tail in invitation, though he did not come closer in fear of sending her away.

she decided that she did not want her lack of knowledge in his common language to ruin this.

so she did her very best to use her body language. briefly she bowed down, then popped back upright and decided to use what little stamina she had to bounce ahead. just a few yards.

then looked to him. warm and playful, but most certainly bashful too!

he stiffened the way a dog might when he catches a whiff of food he isn't supposed to have but wants with all his being. his tail continued its soft back-and-forth, picking up speed until it carried enough force to propel him forward.

unheeded, he bounded towards her. he was quicker than he looked, and as he approached it looked as if he may barrel straight into her. at the last moment he turned, nipping at the air above her withers before wheeling around to her other side.

she fluttered and bloomed beneath the attention.

entirely uncertain what to make of it! she was not as graceful as her mother had been, for adoption did not bless her with genetics. yet she had watched the way her mother had hunted.

so she danced around his bounding moves like he was prey. wheeling away from his nipping and diving in as if she might let her shoulders meet his.

truthfully, they might if neither one of them were quick enough.

Suddenly having trouble visualizing, please let me know if anything needs adjusted!

damian recognized the hunter's dance. hunting was the only thing he was any good at, and maybe the only thing he loved (anymore). he did not clock her awkwardness, mistaking it for inexperience.

he saw it coming but let it happen. the girl was small enough that she didn't sway him when she drove her shoulder into his. he pushed against it, hoping to use his weight to send her rolling.

all good!! let me know if anything is unclear in mine :)

oh! they met as two bodies and his was far stronger. a thing she was used to knowing and yet constantly forgot, for nobody ever used their weight against her! not that she found fear in the way he moved.

but his shove was true regardless and she went down with a tumble.

although she was nothing but laughter as she rolled some down a soft slope, across cold grounds.

nah you're fine! i'm just rusty!

yes!

it is not surprising but he finds himself satisfied all the same. he had never felt like a winner before. his chest rose as he revelled in the sound of her laughter, the sound of victory.

maybe he was good at something else after all. wait up. he bounded after her, knowing he should leave but staying anyway. once again he came around the other side of her as she slowed, dropping low into another bow.

he spoke and her face flushed. silently scolding herself for not knowing more of the common tongue by now. how many times had she encountered those who spoke it?

yet she did not let it deter her from continuing this game.

she sprang upright from her tumble when he bowed low. the old dusting of snow clumped on the longer parts of her fur, cold accents among her cream coat now.

she barked at him and then took off, uncertain where she was going or what she had planned.

but the day would be fun. memorable.

she would not forget the charming face that had played with her.