Wheeling Gull Isle heart made of glass, my mind of stone

She did not notice Driftwood until he called to her, and it frightened her so much she bristled instinctively.  Her tail tucked between her legs as she stiffened, and her jaw set as he ghosted towards her.

Her gaze was fixed on the stranger but his seemed to flit to and fro, as if he were hiding from something.  She softened a little at first, ad then when his words were pulled from his lips hesitantly, she unfurled entirely.  A soft whine pooled in her throat as she closed the rest of the distance between them and promptly shoved her nose right into the ruff of his fur — behind his ear, trailing down his side before she lingered at his hindquarters.  Once she had finished she cocked her head at him and yipped.