Wapun Meadow Filling out Papers

Irene tilted her head at Hokulani’s question, the grin on her muzzle widening into something playful, but her emerald eyes carried a flicker of something deeper. What do I want to do? she echoed, as if the question itself were a novelty she hadn’t given much thought—or at least pretended not to.

Irene’s tail gave a slow, deliberate wag, scattering the snow around her. I’m not asking for much, she added, her voice softening slightly, though the wry humor remained. Just somewhere I can feel... valued. Not for what I can do, but for who I am. That’s not too much to hope for, right?

Her grin turned sly, and she shot Hokulani a sidelong glance. And if that pack just so happens to have a few wolves at my beck and call? Hanging on my every word, vying for my attention? She let the sentence dangle, her tone dripping with exaggerated mischief.

Her gaze lingered on Hokulani, the mask of lighthearted teasing cracking just enough to reveal the genuine longing underneath. But only for a moment. Then she laughed, shaking her head. What about you, huh? Or are you just out here collecting stories and breaking hearts?