Larksong Grotto death blossom

He wobbled like a fresh fawn, and Easy - feeling the urge to romantacize once more - moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the older wolf. Unlike most, this stranger towered over her, his unassuming lankiness unfurling into a broad-shouldered bulk that she'd been entirely unprepared for. But he was a good wolf - she knew this to the depths of her bones - and he was under her care.

"I've got you," she chirped. A fond gaze was shot in his direction, but she didn't dare look at him for long, for fear that he might catch her staring. She was, however, wholly enamoured with the idea of being, simultanteously, both the knight in shining armor and the princess who got to keep him. "The stream's not far - just through these trees," she encouraged, going as slowly as she would let him in order to provide the most support. Finally, though, they broke through the treeline, and the stream was revealed to them along with the large herd of elk that was visiting. They hadn't been there when Easy had last looked, but they were far enough away that she was comfortable leading the man to the banks for a drink - although, she did not appreciate the flies that they drew. She could hear the droning even from where she stood.