Sleepy Fox Hollow Wishful Thinking

They travelled well for some time, joyful in each others company.
Showing each other aspects of the world they may not have noticed before.
She had managed to pull such laughter from him that it was starting to hurt by now.
And in the forest where she had spooked, he had to admit he did a little too but didn't think she'd noticed. Rather, he gave her a kind smile and a soft shoulder bump. There were scarier things in the wilds.

They ascended the mountainside, passing through the thinning flora until they reached the summit of the ridge, dipping down into Sleepy Fox Hollow.
He glanced to Arlette and noticed how her fur seemed to shine in the light, giving him the impression she were perhaps made of water and glass. Though not as delicate, it seemed.

"Rusalka doesn't have much for me now. I do love them, yes, but my pack is where I belong now." He avoided mentioning the Saints by name. Should she have heard of them...what they have done and who they used to be in league with...no. that wouldn't do at all.
"What about your pack?" Did she think of Easthollow like family? Perhaps it was too sensitive. He didn't want to push her.