Flycatcher Downs godling

as he waited for her response, a tenseness crept up the veins of his stilted limbs, and he found himself inadvertently recalling his run-in with skydance: a younger she-wolf he had also liked, but had irrevocably damaged his opinion of her by revealing that she was prone to wanderlust. cursed to remember these kinds of negative encounters, he couldn't help but worry now, that there were few of his kind that remained left in the world; those not so easily swayed by mere whim.

stigmata's worry had been for naught, however, as the ashsmoke beauty on stout, sturdy limbs informed him that her woes were not self-inflicted. his expression thereafter could not be called soft, but it flitted with understanding, and he inclined his muzzle in respectful acknowledgement of her losses. he did not wonder why she chose not to remain with what few of her own remained - sometimes, it simply wasn't viable. "my home is small, and brimming with the young. i do not know if it will suit you, but i am inclined to have you all the same."