Dawnlark Plains a bird in the hand is worth a lotte in the bush

His heart seemed to work double-time when she allowed him his kiss, and the praise that followed made him feel like ten wolves instead of just one. They were both being silly, but Day took these compliments to heart. When Lotte said them, these things sounded true.

"I sing a little," Day admitted with a happy laugh and a wag of his tail. All he knew were the hunting and breeding songs of the Alaskan packs, but they were beautiful and haunting tunes, and his voice was low and smooth. Would this be enough to impress the pretty wanderer? He wondered briefly if Lotte sang, but just as quickly, he decided that she must. She must be a singer and a dancer and every other wonderful thing that Day could think of.

We should hunt together, he thought, remembering how well it'd helped him to bond with Banner that day - and he really needed to track her down again, but for now - "But I'm going to need another kiss-and-a-half before you get a tune out of me, your Majesty."

This time, Day turned his own cheek to her.