Blackfoot Forest not even into another eternity

if his ignorance of social mores revealed itself, mona's horror accompanied it. spreading to blanch her features with a tremouring reach, the girl's scarlet ears folded back into a neat splay of shame along her narrow skull. "n-no! of course not!" mona gasped, unable to keep herself from the indignant quaver present at the back of her tones. well, i never! was the translation, perhaps unbeknownst even to her.
yet equal to that was the shock of being so bluntly asked by a stranger — a complete stranger! — if she thought he should die. the mayfair was fair scandalized, and all by her own misunderstanding and blunder of etiquette when it came to their kind. she gazed frantically at him, her chin at an almost imperceptible quiver. "perhaps ... perhaps i was thinking about how you looked at me, or that you did at all. and then i come here, and suddenly in the midst of my thinking, you appear. is it so odd i would be shocked, if i was already thinking about you, and the very subject of my thoughts materializes?"
horror again, at both her girlish outburst and the intimate level of pathetic detail she had given him; my, my, my, mona huffed within her own skull, you are doing so well. her murkwater eyes trained themselves exactly at the loam between his forepaws, and finally mona mayfair was completely silent.