Moonspear let none be the noose

Snickering, perhaps dashing was the best word of it. He postured himself and she leaned back to take in the sight. Since it was offered so freely, she might as well. "A little vanity is good," she breathed, stepping back to match with a pose of her own -- hackles fluffed and neck arced. She'd squared her front paws and separated her hind ones, so not to emphasize certain aspects of her conformation (like her long back) much. Ame didn't have the same distinctness of scars as he did. Hers were far more hidden and old. But she soon relaxed with a small laugh.

"As we should," she agreed. "I hope she is well, wherever she has gone to." But there was little else to say about that. She was glad he stayed, at least. Things would be much different otherwise.