The Sunspire When the Sunset Meets the Shadow

In my head, I was imagining Red and Jace side by side and laughing so hard because of their size difference. Like, if they stood right next to each other, Red’s shoulder would be at least like five or six inches below his. Of course, that’s Red and most wolves… She’s tiny. >.<

Red nearly purred with delight — if wolves could purr, that is — when Jace returned her physical gestures. She just barely refrained from nuzzling him, being deathly afraid that he would think she was going too far and snap at her face. She was still below him in rank and she would make sure never to forget that. So when he pulled away, so did she, and sat back on her haunches to look at him curiously.

“So tell me Red, what do you want to talk about now?”

The coywolf’s ears went back against her head and she looked at the ground. After a long, awkward pause, she said, very quietly, “I don’t like talking.” And that was all she said. With an embarrassed expression, she slowly looked back up at Jace, wondering how he would take that. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk, it was just that talking for her was so unnatural. Words felt wrong on her tongue. She was so used to communicating through body language alone that speaking seemed… foreign. Ugly. Difficult. She could understand when others spoke just fine and didn’t mind it at all. It was only when she had to speak that she hated it.

Instead of letting the awkwardness get to her, Red decided to rectify the situation by suggesting another form of entertainment. She suddenly lowered her upper body to the ground and raised her rear into the air, wagging her tail and barking playfully at Jace. If there was one thing all wolves knew, it was how to play fight. Her eyes, sparkling with mischief, asked the question that her mouth wouldn’t: “Wanna play?”