Moonspear by a route obscure and lonely

Now when she heard his voice, the dark princess could not unhear the strange accent in his voice. It was something she'd never heard before, and it tickled against her ears like her daddy's whiskers or the warm, puffing breaths her sisters as they slept together in their puppy-pile. But it was different than that, too, because those things had never made her heart want to punch right through her chest, and right then, Alya couldn't tell whether she was excited or afraid.

But he went on, and Alya decided that there was nothing to fear from this boy. He was sad and alone - two things that Alya was very unfamiliar with - and the young princess began to think past herself and her sisters for what was, probably, the first time. "Don't worry about that," she found herself saying. "I'll be good at it."

The dark girl moved forward, paws silent on the snow, and slotted herself slowly against Cypress's side. He was warmer than her, and his fur felt unfamiliar against her own. Alya turned her head in, sniffing at the fur on his chest, and then turned her head away with a mighty sneeze when some of the fur went up her nose. "Sorry," she said sheepishly, peering up at his lantern-lit eyes. "Is this okay?"