Arrow Lake dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot

It was still for a moment— then, then!— the celestial stranger approached effortlessly, and Cortland's breath caught. He was quiet still, even as the male spoke; something in him relaxed nonetheless, as if bidden by the kindness in the other's eyes. The boy lifted his head to meet the stranger's brilliant gaze, his own eyes soft. It seemed clear now that he meant no harm— Cortland had not been afraid to begin with, but he felt justified now in his naive reaction.
The Mayfair did not flinch from the touch, but he offered no response. He simply watched. Many things crossed his mind, then— questions, mainly. Cortland desperately wished to ask them. The words evaded him skillfully as if they sensed his desire; perhaps they knew something he did not. Feeling wise for it, he put his curiosity aside for the moment.
The mention of a name, ultimately, prompted the boy to end his silence. Cortland, He murmured, searching Phocion's face with unabashed intrigue. The male had approached him so gently, kindly— language abandoned him entirely, as it seemed to joy in doing when he needed it most. The boy extended his muzzle to sniff delicately at the unexpected company, nose barely brushing the ends of the other's cheek fur as he sniffed. The violation of personal space didn't strike him as odd— especially in light of the stranger's own nonchalance surrounding it.