Nova Peak jämmerlich

"'course no," she giggled under her breath, unable to help the trickle of it from her throat, "he hasn' indroduced hisself to me!" her eyes stole brightly across mahler's scar-strewed face, then visibly dimmed as she looked to the ground and fussed with her lips, unrest on her conscience and the thoughts of the afterbears stirring up mixed feelings. it was the depth of her love for him that made this so hard. it was that which made her so selfish. 
her eyes, a mosaic of ameythist and morning honey, peered back over the shrub to watch the moose fare sumptuously on the fruits. "i know ad leas seven hundred five things," she whispered into the vert leaves, more to herself than anyone. it was true—her erudition of the forest was cyclopedic, owing to her secret emprises with the marten and his passing down of wisdom that would keep her safe and perhaps scholarly beyond her years. 
if only she wasn't deficient in what should have been a natural competence of speaking. it improved, but slower than she liked, which only frustrated her to no end ... and recycled her progress towards articulation. 
phaedra nodded at mahler's comment that her mother was right, hoping dearly he had no intentions to enquire of phaedra's previous encounters with moose. "prollably so many he turns indo a fat bueberry," she hummed birdsweet at her own imaginings of this, lips pulling upwards at the corners thoughtfully.
the ungulate didn't appear to have any plans on moving on anytime soon, so she gazed around for a bit. "um, papa?" the girl ventured in a silentious manner, ears flush against her pearly crown; she recalled their last meeting with the orbweavers and her frigid manner toward him. he had said he loved her, and she had never returned the sentiment. it ate away at her mind like maggots. she mulled over her words, and quietly vowed, "ich liebe dich mehr," she set her eyes on the moose's large paddles, never once looking to see what his reaction would be, pitching her ears back over her brows suddenly.
"yanno they eat underwader pants?" she said, remembering her first encounter with a moose had been seeing a cow and her calf sticking their heads underwater to browse on the pondweed and waterlily.