Deepwood Weald I Don't Belong Here

She listened, and he watched her reactions carefully. When she got up, he felt a flicker of panic — but she merely pressed her face into his chest. He drew her closer with a foreleg, gently, and from his chest came a low rumble of satisfaction. She spoke of an old mate, and he nodded, sighing softly. Releasing her, he pulled away gently, then met her gaze.

"I was promised to Vex. I had no option to court another. I understand not knowing how to love... I wonder myself whether I even loved her, or if what I felt was..." he trailed off, shaking his head. It didn't matter now. Whatever he felt for Themis was different.

Vorilye's face relaxed into a smile. "We can learn it together." He felt much better, and now, he felt excited — for the future, for what he might discover with Themis. He reached forward to brush her cheek with his muzzle, then sighed softly, "So... My name." He had never been anything other than Vorilye Cruor, and now? Now he could be whoever he wanted. He looked to her, smirking softly. "Did you have any ideas?" If he was to take her surname, he needed a forename to match, did he not?