Firefly Glen And a Song Well-Sung is a Sung-Well Song So Sing

Gawain's neck bristled softly as the woman made her way nearer to him, an involuntary reaction to being approached by such an unfamilar wolf, but he managed to keep mostly calm. He kept careful control of his breaths, remaining quiet and centered, though he spooked a bit at the first touch to his tail. His ears flicked back, pinning against his head with annoyance as the burrs tugged at his fur. 

Toad. What an odd name. Though he supposed it was fittingly odd as the woman herself was to Gawain. His shoulders shuffled slightly at her request, and he lowered himself to his haunches, giving in momentarily to glance back at her working before he turned to face forward again. The young wolf nodded only after having sat, his bobbing lightly. He was much too distracted by his own dilemma of whether or not to share his name with the stranger- with Toad, to give any more of a response. 

Gawain, the yearling began, his voice soft and rough with disuse. He felt only slightly self-conscious of it, his ears flicking again as they usually did when he found himself annoyed with his own actions. His eyes blinked quickly as he took the whole situation in again. Here he was, with a total stranger. Letting her touch him. An idiot. Gawain was an idiot. His eyes pressed shut tightly as Toad worked, trying not to think too hard about the past five minutes.