Firefly Ravine fifteen states [m]

she could keep her legends so long as he was allowed to reserve his view on such things. for the moment, velaryon was not much interested in legends or the fables used to forge them.

he watches as she draws nearer and without thinking about it, his muzzle inclines towards her cheek, drinking in her scent. control over the most primal of his instincts slipping inch by inch. worse, the tighter he tries to hold his restraint.

yes. he agrees; to every thing spoken and everything not directly spoken, tucked betwixt the words.