Deepwood Weald the boom, boom, boom of your heart

swathed in midnight, with blue gems set into his crown. she is come to a stop, gaze shifting up and down the boy who can't be more than a few months of her own age. he's sharp, quiet, and for a moment she's taken aback, silent in turn. and then, after a beat in which her surprise turns to curiousity, she offers a careful, "hey." 

gaze shifts behind him a moment, wanting to ensure no further dark-pelted kin will come creeping out of the bushes. "I'm Moony." she offers next, shifting her weight atop her paws as she hopes for something besides silence from him.