Ouroboros Spine vii. for each others' warmth

Her rabbit-pelt ears splay sheepishly, an apologetic grimace winding its way across her features as she glanced down to the burnt colors of the clay paint. "I'm a bit indisposed at the moment," the mouse demurred, chuckling softly under her breath at the inopportune moment that had presented itself. "I wouldn't want to keep you," the yearling admitted (it seemed she had been right in fretting over whether painting might keep him from hunting), "but you are more than welcome to stay for a moment if you'd like."

"How fares your own dwelling?" The gardener asked if he should decide to stay, tones light as she was trying not to pry. Still, she could not deny having noticed that the moonlit guardian was constructing a home of his own -- and doing a good job of it from what she had been able to tell from a distance. She glanced down at the paint, swirling her paws in the paste to busy her paws as they spoke.