Hideaway Strath weaver

the look on nala's face was that of a guilty dog, face framed by the soft wisps of freshly groomed furs.

i...i know it's late but... nervously her tail wiggled by her ankles. feathery in its motions and appearance. i, uh, was hoping you wouldn't mind me being near for the night...? perhaps it was less than kind to ask, but it still felt worth asking. especially seeing as she didn't really...know where else to be — or what else to do.