Wapun Meadow be gentle as you tear me apart

crimson eyes lift to hers and then comes a huff of breath, visible, ghosting into the cold air. while he sits, he's hunkered, appearing smaller than what he truly is. might as well make himself appear less intimidating, if such a thing were possible to a mouse like this girl.

her question is one that frays on him. at first, he doesn’t answer, letting silence sink like a hook in water. but then, with an exasperated sigh, he says: i’ve had people, clipped, indifferent. just didn’t work out.

the hesitant twitch of round, dark ears betrays his lie.

he shifts slightly, his gaze breaking away to scan their surroundings, as if watching for something—or nothing at all. don’t need anyone, anyway. it’s not defensive, not even entirely convincing. but before she could question him further, his eyes snap to hers.

he pins her.

what about you, sweet thing? a brow raises. you're soft as a bunny. shouldn't be alone. and though his words might seem menacing, there is nothing about his voice that would make them so. it is genuine.