Hushed Willows Show me the places where the others gave you scars.

She had not expected the enthusiasm, the contact - the breath escaped from her lungs. Wayfarer stiffened Reverie's embrace, knowing that she wanted to lean into it but too afraid to. It was short-lived, for the gilded wolfess withdrew and Wayfarer blushed crimson beneath the tufted furs of her cheeks. Her smile was awkward, while her tail thumped the ground on which she sat.

It stilled, however, at the mention of a daughter - and the name Boone. Someone special to Reverie, clearly, and likely sire to the child that Wayfarer would've thought her too young to bear.

She rose her sunset gaze again, seeking her the soft yellow of her companion's. Wayfarer didn't know if she'd fit in with whatever Reverie wished to make here, but she wanted to try.

The ducks. Her stare followed Reverie's and at the mention of them, the duo piped up as if on queue. Wayfarer, after a beat, tilted her muzzle back and laughed out loud in amusement.