Hoshor Plains Does not compute

Zoratto might be thin and lanky and think his build to be more feminine than masculine but Azzaro overlooked all that. Instead, he saw the streamlined muscles beneath silver and dark red fur, he saw the wounds that would turn into scars that marked him a true Dotharan warrior, he saw the male's striking pale emerald eyes and the fire that burned within. The fire that only true Lajaks of the Dotharan had. It didn't matter that the boy was rangy and didn't have the stereotypical Dotharan build, to the yearling, he was still a comely being.

The boy huffed and Azzaro blinked, it was only then did he stop running his gaze over the boy's body and relax his muscles which he didn't even realized until that moment that they were tense. He tossed that thought away and swiveled his ears towards his companion's direction as he replied, saying that his name was Zoratto.

The aspiring Lajak's eyes followed the boy's movements as he began licking one of his neck wounds. Silently, Azzaro drifted forward until he was right beside Zoratto and began languidly running his own tongue over one of the wounds on his companion's scruff if his fellow Dotharan allowed it. "The name suits you," he murmured into the Epsilon's neck unabashedly. If someone saw them, they would simply assume Azzaro was tending to his packmate's wounds but it was more than that.