Permafrost Hollows puuksraak

He shifted his weight, his paw scraping lightly against the snow. It’s not… literal. Bullshit’s more like… nonsense, y’know? Like saying something that doesn’t make sense, or something you don’t believe. His explanation felt clumsy, and he could almost hear the awkwardness in his tone.  

For a moment, he glanced at her, gauging her reaction before adding, It’s… a way of calling out something that’s not true. Not about bulls or their… He trailed off, deciding not to finish that thought, and instead gave a faint huff, a quiet acknowledgment of how ridiculous the explanation sounded aloud.  

The wind stirred between them, filling the brief silence. He gave a faint shrug, the corner of his mouth lifting in something like self-deprecating amusement. Guess that’s bullshit too, me trying to explain it. He shook his head slightly, his expression softening as he looked out at the snow-covered expanse.  

Though his attempt to clarify had fallen flat, there was no trace of irritation in him. Just an openness, as if the moment itself didn’t require perfection. If nothing else, it was an offering—awkward, yes, but honest.