Bearclaw Valley “What am I to you?”

Her response, accompanied by the nip, solidified his belief that he wouldn’t lose her. His tail began wagging again, sweeping gently over the ground, whilst he watched her for a long moment. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips and he drove his muzzle towards the side of her neck, burying his nose there in her fur. He let it linger there, taking in her scent whilst a low, playful growl slipped past his lips. But he did not try to wrestle or mount her, letting his head slide back down towards the ground again. Content, he remained there, an arm slung over her shoulders and his head across one of her forelimbs; there he would stay, pressed against her side, until she grew sick of him and they were both left to their own devices.