Otter Creek a raft of otters

should i pretend his name was "Drakaryn" the whole time? :>

A smile! Small, barely perceptible, but there nonetheless.

Needle felt quite smug about it. The princeking emoted so little aside from a constant mild displeasure, let alone smiled. It was like a reward to see one and know that she was cause. His grin deepened as he jested, one side of his mouth curving more than the other in a wry smirk. She was endeared to this expression the most, feeling warm to her toes at the sight.

In that moment, she felt she could take on a thousand otters, no matter what he said about them. As prompted, she wondered what she would do if she didn’t know anything about the aquatic mustelids.

They don’t look so tough, she proclaimed, puffing out her chest. Their tails are long. I bet I could snag one pretty quick. The waif didn’t want to think about Stark not being there to guide her, so she ignored the statement entirely.

He went on to say she would be at a disadvantage, to which her chest deflated somewhat. The last thing she wanted was to look like a fool in front of Stark. (After all, she had started grooming herself lately, slowly plucking all the burrs from her quicksilver pelt, quietly trying to draw an approving look from him.)

Cazador continued to tease her. Well, when you put it like that… she muttered, ears falling flat briefly. Fine. I won’t force you to rescue me today, but one day, I’ll show you how to catch an otter, Tuerto. Since you’re obviously terrified of them. She smirked right back and gave him a playful nip at his broad shoulder before scampering off, continuing their southeast trajectory.

The brisk air felt nice as her wiry muscles churned.