Little Goat Mountain and now it's only you that matters

At least she tried to explain herself - and actually, he found he could follow most of her confusion, her apologies, her uncertainty, her rabbit trails breaking out and looping back in on each other -- until, well --

"Woah, woah, wait, hold up, slow down," his smiling face kept smiling, his laughter kept trilling through his voice -- almost more now, given the sheer absurdity that -- holy moly -- what the heck? He raised a paw to gesture in the air in front of her mouth, as if to shush her, or calm her, or something of that nature -- anything to let him get his own words out. "First off," and he figured this was most important, "You're an incredible friend for even talking to me after I avoided you for so long, and no, I don't think you're gross, even if you put more icicles on my face that what was there at first, and all." And he laughed again, at how silly she was, at how much he liked that. At what was coming next. His heart thumped like a wilder thing through every second, and every breath.

"And second off -- " her words repeated, over and over - she liked him she liked him -- she liked him. And this, too, was most important, and the most difficult, still, to push out, "I, um, yeah. Well, I actually do... really like you... too." He eased her a crooked grin, and his ears slacked to the sides, and he felt as though he were not in a cave, but kind of sort of floating, only... somewhere nicer than in the blizzard. Like, not quite in the clouds, and not quite somewhere on this earth. More surreal... like somewhere new altogether.