Heron Lake Plateau I decided to remodel, I'm going for mid-century mob hit

If her heart was a flower, his words were sweet sunshine on its petals. They suffused her with such radiant warmth and joy that she couldn't stop the beaming smile that lit up her face or the brushing of her tail across the damp earth behind her. Her father was the only other wolf who had ever spoken to her like that, recognizing and appreciating the qualities that made her who she was and building her up, making her feel confident and proud of herself. Quixote had no idea just how much that meant to her. She closed her eyes and savored the touch of his face to hers, and a comfortable silence descended between them in which the little healer asked herself for the thousandth time how she had ever gotten so lucky.

"You're really awesome too, you know," she murmured after a time, pressing herself into him a little closer as she spoke in hushed words. "You give me so much courage. I couldn't lead this pack without you...I'm not brave or strong at all. I honestly don't know what I ever did to deserve you." Her estrus had lured him in, sure, but what had kept him around afterward? She was so plain and demure, so quiet and out of the limelight. Compared to some of the bolder, more extroverted females in their pack, how had she captured and kept his interest? The rain picked up in intensity again and it fell in driving sheets around their leafy shelter, its soft susurration filling the misty air as droplets cascaded down through the branches overhead and sprinkled onto the huddled pair. Chilly and wet though it was, no part of Raven was cold at that moment. "Maybe Towhee is wiser than we give her credit for -- she was right when she said we were a perfect team." She looked up at him again, her gaze weighted with something far more meaningful than the simple words she spoke.