Big Salmon Lake Ordinary people, who make themselves extraordinary

wc:483

Feeling the comfortable weight of Wraen's head on the back of his neck made him relax, so he sighed, and licked his lips, content to just stay where he was and glean what he could of her positive energy so as to renew his soul, which felt positively drowned in frustrated, disappointed emotions. He didn't move, but simply looked up and back at her, from where she held his muzzle down momentarily, puzzling over what she said. Something about a devil's finger and a hag that would skin him? With her paw across his muzzle, he could do little but mutter, but still he made an attempt. “Rrr nrrr er hrrrg, Rrrrn,” He puffed through clamped lips, though he uttered a muted chortle afterwards. It wasn't likely that she'd understood him- but he'd spoken those words so often to her now, it seemed like there might be a chance that she received the message: “You're not a hag, Wraen.”

He didn't bother to reiterate his point because it seemed the two of them would never see eye to eye on that topic. But she settled against him and he pulled his muzzle out from under her paw again, and gently smoothed the fur down along her foreleg so that she might relax it, and allow him to rest his chin upon it again. When she spoke again, she didn't ask about what had happened to make him so glum, but about who had done it, and he heaved a soft sigh.

He didn't really want to openly admit to anyone that he'd fallen for Fennec, but out of all the wolves he could possibly tell, he felt incredibly comfortable with Wraen and he also knew that she wouldn't likely start a chain of gossip that could potentially reach Fennec again. Given the fact that Wraen was a wanderer, it wasn't like she would be likely to visit Moonspear or the Glen, and while she might pass by the Caldera where his relatives now lived, he still doubted that Wraen might pass on his news knowing that it was something he probably wanted kept fairly quiet. His hesitance to speak alone should have been enough of an indication to show just how little he wanted to talk about it.

“I....I dunno. I think...I think I liked....Someone,” Because it was still simply safer for him to be vague, if not for his own sake than Fennec's. “But I think I might've wrecked it, by accident,” He said. He was positively woebegone in having admitted that; he hated the fact that he'd been the cause of the den collapse, and the loss of all of Fennec's stored herbs, and that she apparently did not care whatsoever about how petrified he was of dens and enclosed spaces now. “It's kind of a long story, I guess,” He said, somewhat defeated. “And I probably just...Lost my chance.”