Hideaway Strath I've gotta a bone, care to pick it with me?

Whrist was fast becoming a fractured emotional mess, with a hairpin trigger. She who had always known what she wanted, was now unsure. She who always had a plan, didn't. She couldn't make head of tails of the coin that was her life ever since she had met Kynareth Deagon of the Abbey in this very place.  

She leaned her head into his lick, then opening her maw and moved to hold his short muzzle carefully in hers for a brief moment, "It's nothing.... I can't put a paw on what has been driving me mad" she felt her chest rumble with a deep reverberating growl of frustration, her voice was soft as she continued to speak almost sullen "I can't tell what I need, or what I want, If I should go, If I should stay" Whrist made a face "Even my voice is driving me mad, I sound like a whinny bitch" She growled, then yelled up to the sky. "What's wrong with me!" she squirmed under him again, Her skin burned where his body was pressed to hers making her almost uncomfortably warm, if she didn't also want to bury herself into him and somehow wrap him around her body like a Kynareth blanket. 

Her heat was confusing as hell she was unprepared for the hormones or the volatile emotions. She wasn't raised by caring wolves, she had to learn everything on her own and this was a learning curve to end all learning curves. "Never mind, it's not like you know either" she groused, then winced as she saw his bleeding ear. "Sorry" she whispered and trying lick the blood marring his cheek as if ran from his ear