Duck Lake montefitu

twitch snorts. fall for him? bold—twitch was eager to see how long that lasted. still, warmth radiates from him, lazy and golden, and she does not wish to part from him.

"mm," she hums, noncommittal, eyes half-lidded as she settles in, "you flatter me, coväh," his name rolls from her tongue pleasantly, words half jest. it fits him.

she lets him talk, lets him preen, his words rolling easy, full of pleasure, like the world had been made just for him to enjoy. "if your reputation is so weak that my words will destroy it, i think you have bigger issues." she drawls, side-eyeing him.

nap, hunt when wake. both good in theory. "it is," she breathes, and he speaks again.

romance? twitch blinks once, twice, as if she didn't expect him to mention it again. twitch was not good at romance—not the literal or the one she had unintentionally suggested. 

the tawny she-wolf shifts—just a little, just enough that her back brushes the warmth of his side. barely there. almost nothing. "could. m' not exactly experienced, though," she did not fear the idea; it often occupied some place in the back of her mind, but the idea of children always warded her away from acting upon it.