Porcupine Ridge a magical people

His shyness appealed to her; Reverie had always held a certain affinity for men of a softer make than what she was accustomed to, drawn to what she viewed as unexpected sensitivity. In a way it reminded her of her first husband, though he had not been so shy at first. She stepped closer, tail still moving in a slow back-and-forth at her hocks.
Oh, no you aren't, She assured him with a quick shake of her head for emphasis. I um, I'm Reverie. I'm settling in a forest nearby with my family. A willow forest. Reverie gestured with her muzzle in the direction of the place they would call home. Are you a traveler? She wondered next; a common question for her these days, born of some mixture of envy and delight at the prospect. Reverie still intended to travel, but would never again be able to range quite as far from her home as she had before. There was too much tying her here to be left behind for more than a day or two at a time. Still, she loved to hear about the travels of others, and so she awaited his response with bated breath.