Moonsong Glacier my fingers laced to crown,

pUBCHES A WALL BC I RLY LOVE HIM!!!1!!1! soft hours ONLY

And there he was, falling right back into place with a few golden strides. Her heart thrashed in her breast—what the hell was wrong with her? She’d only felt so flushed in this exact manner, once, as a whelp when she’d taken to another of her pack at the time. This feeling was...frivolous, girlish, vulnerable and... she didn’t know how to conduct herself. What did you usually do?

’I wouldn’t have met you and that would’ve been a shame.’ Her brows narrowed, eyes creasing with bewilderment. Would it have been a shame if they hadn’t stumbled into another? ”W-well, I can’t imagine why else it would be a shame. You would be dead, if you hadn’t met me, if that’s what you are saying.” She gave pause, and then hurriedly stuttered, ”N-n-no, I mean— I’m not arrogance! I’m-I'm... I am anything but ze arrogant!”

It was only when her tongue became heavy and she was practically babbling all foreign-like that his supplication from earlier finally dawned on her.

...Oh.

Her expression fading from pleading into one of quiet realization, ears pressing back as her lips went thin. But blood still sting at her face, her cheeks, beneath wide eyes as she meekly turned away. The she-wolf pointedly looked at anywhere but him, felt as if she would spring from her pelt with nervous bashfulness if she did. But she wasn’t enraged or overjoyed; simply... honeyed, she thinks. Feeling a certain fondness that she didn’t know what to name or where to apply.

As untrue as she believed it to be, Aure was not one to turn away praise. Even if she felt underserving of such notice, she still tried to accept them graciously—clumsily.