Bearclaw Valley it don't matter if the cold wind blows

she observed him slyly, awaiting some sort of reaction -- when he spun round on his reedy legs she dug deeper into a bow, arms outstretched and ready. as he frolicked over to her, she tensed, her back rigid -- and with an impish gleam in her eye she met his extended muzzle with a playful nip.

it was not forceful enough to break skin, and her teeth remained sheathed by her gums. after such a daring maneuver she jostled towards him with a shoulder, moving laterally towards him before bolting off in a dead run.