The Heartwood and I can't feel no remorse, and you don't feel nothing back

she moved again to broach the distance between them when she caught the flicker of recognition, ears perked atop her skull. his words had her tail shift from its poised position to waft softly at her hocks a moment, pausing when the distance between them had been closed to one more benefitting of an acquaintance than a stranger. 

he confirmed that this was truly the olive that she sought, and again she spoke, as if his statement required an explanation. "I take after my-" here, a pause, tiny, nearly indiscernible, "father." the latter was said somewhat stiffly, and she could not stop herself from peering over the boy's shoulder as if the daintiness personified that was her mother would appear. yet there was only the dark spaces between the trees, and shifting her gaze back to him, she asked, "is she near?" the small curve of her muzzle was the only thing that signaled her hopeful happiness, gaze set solidly on his with a new intensity.