Swiftcurrent Creek The currents are fast but life is sweet

Someone in this pack? No, and that was the worst part. It's not too forward. he said with a gentle shake of his head. A somewhat solemn sigh escaped his lips. He closed his eyes for a moment, and the doe sprung into his mind. When he opened them, it was only the white, scarred woman sitting in front of him.

She's from Bearclaw Valley, Frederick explained, his tail moving, somewhat on its own accord, to plant firmly by his thigh. A huff as he searched Arlette's gaze. He wondered if she would be disapproving, but he would not, could not, stop talking: Her name is Milan. I met her only a few days after Arric permitted my stay.

And he wondered, then, if this had all been a mistake. But he held out hope. Perhaps this was just a test, and he needed to remain strong. Focused. A breath, two passed, before he would ask for her opinion: I do not know what to do.

Romeo and Juliet, it seemed.