Stavanger Bay calm before the storm

as he explains his method, her eyes narrow.  is this some sort of joke?  surely not.  her eyes rake over his form as though trying to parse his intentions by sight alone.  all she can really ascertain is tension; and though she does not know this wolf from the very first of their species, there is something about his awkwardness that she doubts he is one for games.  she exhales, her pale stare climbing up the length of the spindling trunk.

"we will not be doing that," she makes that executive decision for them. "maybe we shake the tree, as i was before?" neither of them is the pinnacle of lupine strength, but perhaps they can make up for that in tandem.  natshana pushes herself up onto her hind legs once more while her forepaws rest somewhat awkwardly on the slender tree. "be careful not to let them hit your head. they hurt." as if he doesn't know.