Blackfeather Woods want my friend, want my heart’s mend

He was not so easily flustered under her assertive posture, for the weary glare of a child did little to unnerve the seasoned champion. Still, he was a benevolent man and did not wish to bring upon any further agitation to the girl than he already had. So where her tail arched over her narrow frame, his swayed nonchalantly at his heels, a low whine erupting from the corner of his lips. 

For good measure he let his figure slink downward only slightly, head hovering above the snow laden floor as his ears slicked back atop his charcoal crown. He hoped in some way or another he could slowly ease the distrust from her gaze, for he did wish to know who else might lie within the somber woods, especially if they were as welcoming as the youth before him.