Wapun Meadow casanova

If he could, Ren would have enjoyed gathering all of the flowers together. The most he could do was slide down among them; chest-first, the flowers bunched together and mingled with the tendrils of chest fur as he descended to his belly. He was careful, not wishing to disturb the sparks of yellow or the thin, delicate strands which held them in place. He would have rolled in them if the dark wolf hadn't been there - but then was distracted by his question.

I.. am not sure, hm, and that was the truth. He did not want to abandon this field nor the lands which lay beyond it. Even though he had been sent away from the rose wolves, he wished to stay nearby just in case. They appealed to him - they were familiar, if only barely - and Renoir had no idea what to expect from this gentleman or his own pack, if that offer was on the table. You are not alone? the question seemed silly to him after he voiced it; no, neither of them was alone currently. They had one another, and they had the flowers.