Deepwood Weald Gift

At her swat, Astraios clacked his teeth at her, a playful, low growl rumbling deep in his chest. It seemed she approved, as she set her bundle of wildflowers down and immediately sprawled across the fur. He chuckled quietly as, with her movements, Themis scattered the petals. It was definitely something to see, her strew across the fur he'd procured with his own sweat and blood, the petals intermingling. It pulled at something deep within him, something primal, but he reigned it in with a steady inhale.

At her request, he laid beside her happily, and he murmured, "I am happy you like it. It... will be good for the whelps, too, and any — ah, future litters." His tongue swiped over his muzzle, almost anxiously. First, they had to worry about raising this one.

Then, he recalled what Rodyn had said before they'd departed each other's company. He told Themis. "Rodyn's leader, of Moonglow, wants to meet with us to share a meal." Perhaps they could forge some friendship.