Wild Berry Meadow I feel pretty, oh so pretty

He can hear each crunch of the crisp, fresh plants beneath him as he rolls, drawing in their scent into his fur. The misellaneous nature of the meadow did not create the effect he had been used to in his home, with each courtesan chosing their own flower plant to establish their own alluring wafting scent, but he assumes that he is unique in the practice alone. He rolls onto his stomach, crawls to a fresh patch of plants, and begins to rub his lower body against the flowers and herbs. His eyes are half-closed as he moves, barely noticing the woman watching. Or at least, he gave such an impression, his eyes flickering towards the movement near him.

A smirk alights his face for a moment as he begins to nose half crushed and broken herbs along his forelimbs, absorbing himself into the action before his voice raises to her. Am I such a sight that you stop and stare? He questioned her, eyes flickering towards the unknown femme. I am flattered,