Bearclaw Valley [m] burning skies

tvar watches her carefully, catching the subtle motions of her paws, the slight nod of her head as she signs the first word. it's simple—direct. "yes." his lips curl faintly at the corners. yes, he repeats aloud, and he lifts a paw then, mimicking her motion carefully. it’s clumsy, but he tries nonetheless. like this? he asks.

his tail shifts faintly against the ground, a subtle wag that mirrors the warmth creeping into his otherwise stoic demeanor. he breathes out slowly, feeling that pull toward her again. she’s all sharp edges and guarded strength, but here, in this moment, she’s something softer, too. something he wants to keep close.

is no next? he intones with a playful smile. that does seem the most obvious one.