in this world it's hard to get it right.

omgggggg

Surprisingly enough, Finley remained motionless even after Elwood finished speaking. He had fully expected her to turn tail and run, since that was what she seemed to do best. With a gently furrowed brow, he tried to read her expression as she digested his words, his stomach doing anxious flips. He had just bared his soul to her, something he hadn't planned to do for quite a while -- but he had found himself without an option. He had to say it.

When he noticed how violently she was trembling, he knew it was over. He had upset her in some way; Peregrine was wrong, somehow, and she didn't love him. Preemptively, he started to wilt, his ears falling to either side and his tail slowly drooping behind him. But then she opened her mouth and he stiffened -- and with a voice quivering with emotion, she said, "There was no moth."

Confusion flickered across his face. At first, her statement made no sense to him, and his jaws parted to question her sanity. But then, a memory struck him unexpectedly. He remembered being sprawled across the icy floor of the secret cavern within the mountain, entwined with Finley after a clumsy turn of events. They were face-to-face, and he specifically recalled her warm breath washing over his face. Behind her, icicles glittered and threw rainbow patterns haphazardly across the crystallized room. It was the first time she had made his heart skip a beat -- and then he remembered the pain as she abruptly struck him in the face with her paws and slid away from him.

She had blamed it on a moth -- but there was no moth. What did that mean? Though he had never laid eyes on the offending insect, he had allowed himself to believe her; what else was he supposed to do? But now she was taking it back; quietly he queried, "What do you mean?" Did she love him back? Had she done it because she was afraid of the emotions welling within her? He needed clarity -- he couldn't make assumptions. His heart couldn't take the disappointment if he was wrong.