Bearclaw Valley lotys

the journey into the hearth of bearclaw was comfortably quiet. the sylph of a woman glided alongside cole. more often than not, her eyes gravitated toward him. admiring, wondering; she still knew so little about him. a craving instilled her, then, or perhaps it's slowly been inking into her veins.

she smiles up at him, bashful and sweet. her willowy tail swishes then, perhaps eagerly, to not only appease him but to appease whomever would come to greet her. to judge her. winnie was nervous, yes, but she felt a smidge more confident with cole at her side. 

his deep howl rang out. a beacon. and so she'd sit, tail curled neatly around her paws, for their arrival.