Sleepy Fox Hollow This love is gettin' kind of dangerous

pippin’s ears twitched, flicking forward with every new name.

he didn’t say a word at first—just listened, wide-eyed, soaking her voice in like sunlight, the rhythm of it almost bigger than the words. his breath slowed from its usual huff-puff gallop. even his tail stilled.

he looked up at her, eyes blinking slow.

moose sound kinda mean, he murmured, thoughtful.
then, after a beat—

but i can learn everybody’s language.

his head lifted, proud but curious. i wanna race a caribou. and then an elk. and a mountain goat. and maybe even a bison. but not a moose. and not a fawn either. i’ll just sneak with them.

he leaned a little closer, nudging her leg gently, the top of his head pressing into her.

will you show me how to be quiet like a fawn? you’re really quiet, ma.

he looked up again, ears flicking softly.

and you know so much.