Morningside Cuesta isn't hope an animal?

He didn't see the hesitance - couldn't see it, anymore. Perhaps if he'd paid more attention, he would have noticed the rigidness of her stance, but the relief of being forgiven, accepted, wanted made him too giddy to focus on such simple things. She ran, and Grayday was a step behind her, bumping his shoulder against her hip, nipping at the shallow dip of her side, panting as her tail whipped against his face when she surged ahead of him.

She was lighter and quicker than he was, but he doubted she wanted to run as much as he wanted to catch her. It burned like a physical need in his chest, real as hunger or the necessity to breathe that he had so recently re-discovered. He wanted to catch her and - and

A short, abrasive growl escaped the male - easily written off as playful, but in reality, meant to supress the thoughts that threatened to come to mind, to return him to the creek where he'd been seeking asylum. He wanted to catch her, and the rest could be sorted out later.

Grayday surged forward with renewed vigor and attempted to nudge the smaller wolf off her balance. Without waiting to see if he'd succeeded, he fell back and then leapt into her, intent on stopping her progress completely.