Whitebark Stream And maybe my story can have a happy end

the brow arched higher at her praise. you're not that old, surya teased, shaking his head. if you were older than my mother, it would be strange. . .but you're not. or so i'd guess. wolves didn't age like trees; you couldn't cut them open and count the rings. aphrodite looked young enough, anyway.

but thanks. you're quite beautiful, yourself, he rejoined, smiling. and then was stuck. what to say next? what to do next? he ducked his head, continuing to eat his fish—finishing it much too quickly in the process. left with an empty, fishy mouth, surya licked his chops, looking down at the bits of bones.