Qeya River But often it happens, you know

her laughter, warm and ringing like the soft jangle of bone charms in the breeze, spilled from her throat before she could help it. there was something so endearing about him, the way he looked half ready to bolt and half ready to plant himself beside her belly forever. the sight of him, careful and reverent as if she might shatter beneath his touch, made her heart swell with a fondness she hadn't anticipated.
their teeth are sharp to cut sheep fur, she teased, teeth flashing playfully as she gave his ear a light, sisterly nip.
she watched him quietly after, as he pressed close and listened, the edges of her smile softening as she saw the way his face gentled in the moment, as if all the weight of the wilds had been lifted from his shoulders. how long had it been since anyone let themselves be at peace like that?
when he finally lifted his head and spoke, her grin returned full force, tail thudding gently behind her. an army, she echoed, eyes glittering. and they'll remember their uncles soft touch.
she shifted slightly, enough to nudge her shoulder into his. you'll march beside them, ridgeback. stragglers or no. we'll keep each other from falling behind.
her gaze, steady and bright, lingered on him for a beat longer than it maybe should have, before she added, softer, you’re good to me. to them. thank you.