Wapun Meadow i can feel your teeth on my paper-moon skin

as he finished his sorrowful song she whined, pushing against him. he did not contest her reaction  -- instead he watched her as if a caged bird; careful, intelligent, wary.

he glanced besides her, towards the deep rift of the valley. wrongfully he assumed her reluctance come from his breed and not her loyalty. carefully he attempted to bury his muzzle in the tufts of her shoulder, but he made no move to bother her further. either way she would not understand his tongue -- he relied on the true call of the wild to make his intentions and whims clear to her. like all wild things she was free to do with the interpretations as she pleased without judgment or repercussion.