Blackfeather Woods kissing wounds

veran — was he still veran, he thought? — peered at her with owlish eyes. The mismatch hues of her fur blended in his gaze. his dark head against the earth, scarred muzzle top smooth with a lack of aggression.

she stood out in the swirl of shadows.

she was like a beacon of light and him a moth.

yeah i...don't know what's up with that, his usual fear in the face of strangers ebbed away. spores altered his mind into something twisted from his usual skittish self.

how did you get here?