Bearclaw Valley Galant

At first Ashlar took her question as expected, that she needed validation as to why he'd given her the song. It confused him at first because he'd said he gave all of his friends songs, but perhaps she did not know why he'd picked her specifically for this? Why he'd chosen her song next, to put music to what he saw.

The boy ducked his head, suddenly a tad shy, but only because he hoped the answer did not offend her. It was easier to give the song than the reason.

Ashlar did not know words, exactly. You are the hunt, and the hunt is the song. It has a sound, like... like, and he made it. The low growling rhythm of the heartbeat of panicked prey, the increased pounding of paws, and the build of tension to the catch.

Everything is a song. He said a little softer, his paws shifting with some nervousness as he revealed this small insight. Ashlar thought maybe she'd find it silly, but it filled him with so much joy to hear the music. Perhaps she heard it too.