Whitebark Stream That's the role of poetry: to say what others cannot utter.

She thanked him, unnecessarily, though he chose to accept the sentiment and let it warm him. Kindness was what he would aim to build his mateship with Dawn on and he supposed with that came gratitude, so Artyom offered a content sweep of his tail.

Shifting just enough to accommodate his new mate's more physical gesture, the ranger allowed her to lean her slight frame against his shoulder and turned his head to welcome her close to him. The tip of his raven nose found her silver crown and he exhaled softly into the fur, delivering a nuzzle before he maneuvered to bring her down to the ground alongside him where she could sink against him and better relax.

Teeth gently went to work, preening the sterling tufts of fur at the base of a lobe and caressing her silken cheek, eager to resume his courtship of her following the serious nature of their discussion.