Bearclaw Valley needlework and seedlings,

few weeks, he confirmed, and so she chuckled, thinking that it might be nice to have the spotlight, the title of 'new guy' lifted from his shoulders. it was a weight that she could manage, and she thought that, had she not arrived, the burly man across from her could easily do the same. strong, a likely valued packmate. tvar, the piqsiq' nuvu'.

and he declined her question, then, saying that no one had caught his eye. for a moment, she found herself disbelieving of such a thing, but then she realised that there did not seem to be many women of age within the pack, at least, not of his age, that were without mates. the females had a median age of two, she knew. this man seemed to be about four, with the way he carried himself with experience, a year older than she.

i ask out of mere curiosity, snowwoman hummed, tilting her head with a smile, eyes remaining on the ground as she walked. within the darkness, she was careful to mind her step. but then, giving a stretch of her neck, she craned her head upwards, heaving a sigh before releasing it in the form of words: although, i search for compatibility in most men - those big and scarred in particular, a warm chuckle, then. clear implications.

then, with a moment of silence in which she processed thoughts, she would add on: i am woman of tradition - i seek to rear children so i may pass down my lineage, and, though she would not admit it, she had always had quite the soft spot for puppies. adorable little things, though she believed it more noble to phrase her want in such a manner that honours her predecessors, her parents. not to, ha, overshare.

and not to prod, either, rala started. but do you seek whelps of your own?