Sleepy Fox Hollow lächeln

Bad timing. Bad timing was ever the mistress pulling the strings of their unusual relationship, such that they never came across each other when it was convenient for either of them. After their last meet, the formal greeting felt weird to Wylla, who was already flushed and hopeful that she could escape this without giving him the satisfaction of knowing what she'd pictured a mere half hour ago. Or other times, because there certainly had been other times—hormones were such a bitch.

Mahler, she drawled, slow, casual, but so obvious about how high strung she really felt. Oh, it's, y'know... great. Was just... uh... fell, which was not true, and they likely both knew it. A simple fall couldn't leave her so dishevelled looking. Maybe he would let her save face and not mention how unkempt her coat was, how youthful and sleepy the fur fluffed up around her ears made her look. Maybe he would overlook it completely. It had been a very vivid dream and a very restless sleep, which was plain for all to see.

As long as he didn't tease her for it... she wasn't sure she could hide the truth if he did. And you? she returned, turning ever-so-slowly to face him fully, which showed off a very haphazard cowlick of fur on her throat that was normally groomed down.