Whitebark Stream Polite Society, Valentine Style

Ravah, he murmured, once wine-dark eyes had settled upon that silver, streamlined figure. There was no malice, nor anger behind his tone. The irritation that he had felt after their hunt was short-lived, and, ultimately, he did not find himself caring too heavily for the words that were shot between them.
She was within a land that was new, and unfamiliar. There was no doubt that she would likely be, if not 'on edge', then perhaps just simply not used to this place. Hating it, even. Probably wanting to go home. He let a breath leave his lips once more. Without moving towards her, he gave her a nod, his tail swaying behind him. His face was accepting, forgiving, if she wanted that.
Apologetic, if that was what she would rather. But he would not say such out loud. Instead, his eyes squinted with a kindness, and with a flick of his tail, he would invite her to walk with him, should she so accept.