Moonsong Glacier Sing a song of sixpence

He lay close to her, enough to angle his head and give a curious sniff of the pelt. Interested to feel it, sunset gave it a lighthearted snap, though teeth did not meet fur of any kind.

The force of the snap sent him to his side, paws placed upon his peltsmith's side and his head tilted in such a way to look up at her with those eyes. 

His own tail-thump lay muffled by the furs scattered about. 

A wuff, which could mean I totally meant to do that. Followed by chuffs of laughter.