Bearclaw Valley Friday Night I Crashed Your Party

a wind rose in the creaking old trees, and ancelin pulled ameline against him, exhaling a good deal of his stress right into her inviting ruff. he was indeed apprehensive, which was what he told masque. but thinking about masque hurt, and thinking about how the younger kids of the rise had liked him somehow hurt more.
ancelin hadn't thought he cared so much.
"a natural, huh," he grunted, flushing a little beneath his mate's praise. "gotta get them through winter before i can claim that," he grinned; downplay, downplay, downplay. 
"but while we're on the subject — how many do you want, leelee?"?