Whitefish River Make like a baby and have little to no control over any aspect of your life or body

she approaches a little nearer, sinking to her stomach when she's within range. soft smile settles on her muzzle as he speaks, and that maternal part of her that was so recently shunted off into some dark corner of her mind reawakes. "that's a cool name," she offers, glancing over him briefly before settling her gaze on a leaf by her forepaws. 

"you know, this is my favourite season." she glances back over to him, continuing, "my da, he used to call this time 'breath deep'. its a time for drawing closer to your pack; fattening up and slowing down." the exact circumstances of the conversation came back to her slowly. her scent just went on and on - I never figured that one out. it's eerily similar to events of the month past, but she can't think of that, now, and returns her full attention to dragomir.