Sleepy Fox Hollow lächeln

Maybe it was the vulnerable position she found herself in, or the unstoppable fog of the season beginning to churn within her, but for once Wylla felt no need to guard herself with harsh words or frantic actions. Her eyes found his for just a second when he bent, and when he touched his muzzle to her cheek, her nervous heart seized and her breath hitched in a sharp intake. She didn't attempt to scramble out or shove him away like she might've when they first reunited; she turned her muzzle with the intent of running it along the side of his, giving in to it all, but he was already retreating.

As though he'd left an invisible tether on her cheek, she rose with him, automatic, unthinking. Her flyaway fur was made no neater by the mess of snow clumped into it, but for some reason, Wylla didn't care anymore. The self-conscious feelings from before were gone, replaced with a rare fragility that almost never showed. Before she knew what she was doing she attempted to press the crown of her head into the crook of his neck in an unheard of show of intimacy.

She could hear her blood rushing in her ears, and that was when she caught herself with a gasp. I'm sorry, she said, pulling away in an abrupt flurry of embarrassment for being so forward and not stopping to marvel at how easy that apology was compared to any other, I didn't... I don't... But she did mean to do it, she just didn't want to confuse him more or risk hurting him when she wasn't even sure if what she felt was real or just a product of the times.