Bearclaw Valley Now you know, all you need is me

When all he heard were whimpers, he immediately tried to take it back; it seemed to him as if trying to get her to speak more was making her anxious, and Xan was not the greatest at differentiating good from bad anxious. From his perspective, anxiety was anxiety and he felt bad for having made her experience it. “It’s fi—” Before he could finish, he was interrupted by her voice, which silenced him without an ounce of complaint. He watched her for a moment, expression unreadable, before a smile broke out across his lips and his tail started wagging excitedly.

She had addressed him directly, she’d said his name—and the way it sounded with her voice was even better, multiplying his joy tenfold. “That’s good!” he exclaimed, giving her several more kisses to further explain how he was feeling. When they first met, she’d been silent, nothing leaving her mouth that could be even remotely related to words. Now, though, it was an entirely different story. And though her vocabulary was limited, he couldn’t contain himself over the fact that she at least knew his name—

—but he still did not know hers, or even what to call her, which put a slight damper on things.

Curious, he made a failed attempt at reining himself back in and relaxing, but his eagerness refused to be sedated. Words escaping him, he motioned to her in the same fashion he had himself, a pleading look in his eyes: can I have your name? But his interest in her name could easily be seen as a plea for something else, but this he was unaware of.