Bearclaw Valley if he fell in love

there is no doubt that their names twined together, harkening the way to his surname crownore sounded good. or, so towhee imagines it sounds good. they read good together and to towhee that counts as the same thing.

she is still as she watches tvar sign his tale, his history ... the legacy of his family name in ptero, catching the spoken word here and there when it was offered. towhee book marks the names in her mind, and sinks effortlessly into the mythos of his home. his culture.

it couldn't be more different than her own upbringing. she herself was secular, as she believed her mother was. she couldn't speak for her father for, though she had been upset about it happening as a child she has forgotten much of him.

-well,- she signs in ptero, offering a heavy sigh that begins deep in her chest and visibly leaves her body in the rise and fall of her scarred shoulders. -i've got the dark pelage and bird of prey bond thing going for me.- some of the topics tvar had signed of had been heavy, felt heavy and she wished to lighten that burden for him.

-do you miss it?- asks towhee in ptero, gaze soft as it rests upon his face.

she scoots closer, and presses a soft kiss to his cheek, pressing her nose to the fur of his neck.