Luneshale Pass lonely bones

She felt the weight of his gaze, sharp and deliberate, brushing against her like the wind that teased at the edges of her fur. She let it pass over her without turning, her eyes fixed on the far-off cliffs that seemed to guard the silence they shared. 

Her ear twitched at his huff, catching the disapproval in it, but she didn’t bristle. If anything, the corner of her mouth twitched, not quite a smile but close, as if she found his resistance expected, almost amusing. 

She forgot the implications she'd left in her words. “Oh, not like that,” she retorted, brows furrowing in vague amusement, stifling the scoff that tickled the back of her throat. “Just meant.. having someone else standin’ there when the morning breaks. Something to wake up to, at least.”

She shrugged then, the motion casual, but her posture betrayed a flicker of vulnerability, brief and fleeting like a shadow across the ground. “But hell, what do I know?” she added, voice lighter now, almost dismissive. 

Whether he wanted her explanation or not, she didn’t give him more. If he wanted her gone, all he had to do was say. Until then, she remained where she was, steady and unmoving, like she belonged there as much as the rocks beneath her paws.