Chimera Fields Roast Mutton

It was hard not to smile, when the boy reacted the way he did - a warm reprieve from who he had been thus far - and she decided she liked this side of him better than the other. A genuine smile touched Cèilidh's eyes, and she let her tail wag in tandem with the boy's.

But she couldn't really figure out what to say. Awesome? Thanks? What did you say to someone who gave you access to their budding pack? Her parents hadn't trained her for this - and if only they could see her now! - and what transpired from her lips was the lift of a grateful laugh, a smile, and a simple and easy, "I can't wait."

"Mal," she repeated. What an interesting name. Easy to remember, and unwillingly her mind humored itself with the titles he could take, if he really did manage to establish himself as ruler of the forest. Sovereign Mal of the Highest Order. Mighty Mal, Monarch Supreme. Mal McMalleth, Speaker of the Trees. All ridiculous, of course - but there was no shutting that side of her brain off. She aired the simplest, most normal of thoughts, "I like that. I'm Cèilidh," and she took a confident step toward him, and turned her honeyed eyes to the distant trees which lined the field, "so like, which forest is ours?"