Qeya River ghosts

i can be, he replies with a knowing smirk, tail swishing, ears rounding as he still surveils for noises around them. ever the constant sentinel.

her movements, her glance, the way her tension rippled just beneath her fur—something was clearly bothering the woman. like any good prospective husband, the man leans forwards, head turning to catch a better angle of her face as the two of them fall into stride together.

thought you might need it. you look like you’ve seen a ghost.