Fox's Glade ab iniquitate [m]ea

She was all dog, like nothing he had seen before, and Rey let that mystery draw him in like a fish reeled on a hook. He put on his best  rogue grin, moving to tuck his head around the probing of her own to seek out scruff, where he gave a deep inhale.

And you, mi amor, must be divine.

If there was one thing Rey remembered how to be, perhaps it was charming. He certainly thought so.