Shy Deer Steppes i'm walking, i'm a southern stream

She holds onto his embrace a moment longer. With their love forbidden for so long, it was torture to be seperated now.

He assured her that the rest were coming, Damsel hoped that the promise would allow her mind to relax. T.K beat you here, came running at me the other day. She snorted, still finding the sight of the falling canine rather amusing.

I've been making it my own. There's more wolves than we thought, though. The heathens don't even speak common. Though really, it was more that Damsel did not speak the wolves common. She hums, looking back to the landcape behind them. There's a meadow a ways back that I've decided to settle us into.