Sea Lion Shores the sun is gone, but i have a light

it was not like nathaniel at all, the way this boy touched her. the eagle had been self-assured, confident, sometimes hesitant in a way mona did not always understand. the seawolf was hesitant, edging his touches to match her own. it settled the little mayfair, contented her, soothed the wordless need of her heart in a manner necessary to drive out her shyness.
still with no fixed goal in mind, mona preened the dried brine from his ruff, lifting her slender muzzle to explore the bulb of one dark ear. it was good to touch, to be touched; her shyness began to ebb away, but still she did not seek his eyes — not yet, for she feared it would dash the delicate glass of her newfound confidence to bits.