Honeyed Pasture the gentle moonlight

The walk was a slow and careful one, as her paws stumbled here and there and she stabilized herself on the support of the muscled shoulder. She follows his gaze as it travels to the sea and finds nothing noteworthy- if she were in a better mood, she might've giggled at that. But she says nothing as he repeats her word. 

Eventually she feels the effect of the "heat" again, when she can't seem to focus on the road ahead. Keeps glancing up at the boy with a sort of odd curiosity, and her gut twists. Whether due to the sickness or the heat-caused nervousness, she does not know, but it makes her uncomfortable, and she opts to go back to staring at her own black feet. Man, what your name? She wonders quietly.