Altar of Twilight thinking of you is a poison i drink often

She spoke up, presenting another question for him. Dacio, made suddenly uncomfortable by such a direct enquiry that he didn't know how to answer without sounding too bold or too forward, lowered his crown and, other than a low hum, he maintained his silence as he trudged on through the snow.

Pace quickening, he moved to lope ahead of the tawny wolfess. He inhaled deep the scent of deer nearby and a charcoal ear swivelled back toward his lithe companion. "I think we're close," Dacio changed the subject, though was hardly graceful in doing so. He hoped his lack of response would not offend her, that she could understand his reluctance to be too honest with his desires. Better to keep her guessing, no, as she did him? "What's the plan here?"