Porcupine Ridge Seasong saints

"Taggarik?" Diane whispered, uncertain. She was thrown by his resolute mood, his unwillingness to engage sending her wildly off-kilter. The girl turned slowly to face him, her ears falling and her tail tucking as came nearer— appearing and feeling scolded. "Did, did I do something wrong?" she asked when she had come near enough for him to hear her receding voice. Her confidence was shot, and she was becoming more and more aware of how strange she'd been acting. What had she been running for? ...she couldn't remember. She'd never had a reason.

Confusedly, she continued to close the space between them. Diane could feel her skin tingling, her heart fluttering in her chest like a wild bird in a cage. Seeking comfort, seeking contact, she sniffed at his chest tentatively, her eyes peering up at him: gold glass orbs, wide and imploring. She couldn't articulate how she felt, or what she wanted from the Alpha's presence. "Why don't you want to run with me?"