Nothing could've prepared her for the torrent of emotion that would follow the moments passing Rio's arrival. At the current time, however, all the prone girl feels is a sharp type of loneliness, and the aforementioned wontedness; she is drowning in the quagmire of her own thoughts, shifting through the drudge in hopes of recalling some joyous fragment from her time spent with her crimson companion, and so she does not acknowledge the rapidly approaching scent of the actual thing. The only sign that she realizes he's there in the heartbeats before his blunder is a curious uplift of her muddy eyes, and the upward twitch of her ears. She had heard something, a rustling that transitions into a type of rumbling that she soon registered as brisk, eager footfalls. The earlier interest, the desire to reveal the mysterious, is what leaves her all the more unprepared for the coming . . . the coming of him, a russet flash before her eyes and tripping paws, her feeble body seizing as his large digits are caught in her narrow shoulders. She is unfurling in seconds, her spine arching in caution as she twists about to glimpse her antagonist, only to freeze abruptly as her eyes meet the unmistakable blue of his. She is so caught in his gaze, still as if turned to stone, her own windows widening a perceptible degree as she looks upon her crimson companion; and, suddenly, a warmth wells in her chest as Euphrosyne watches him, glances upon his unhinged jaws and dilated eyes, listens with eager ears to the hushed gasp that falls from his gaping mouth.
And, lo, attraction attacks the unsuspecting maiden, albeit in a harsh contrast to Rio's open display of surprise. Her eyes narrow abruptly, and a small smile grasps her lips as she pushes forwards, pressing her brow to his. The shock of a tail attached to her rump is a mass of indescribable flesh and fur, turned into a euphoric blur by the happiness that accompanied the arrival of Rio; breathlessly, she cries out, withdrawing only to once again gaze upon his handsome countenance, to gather in the entirety of his striking mass, drawing a quiet soliloquy from her excitedly parted lips,
"I should have never departed; the greeting is made all the more painful from the terrible properties of my hiatus!"
Unaware that she had uttered the heartfelt thought aloud, the girl presses her face back against Rio's, eyelids dropping over bright eyes in unbridled bliss. Her only friend, the one who had ran with her through the river and who had dwelled constantly in her thoughts for the months that passed her leaving . . .
"I'd like to return your statement with something equally as witty, but I cannot! I am simply too happy to see you, Rio!"
Jubilant overpowered any sense of reason and, tongue lolling from a grinning maw, Euphie rolls onto her back, looking skywards in order to fully take in Rio's facial features. Her own smile grew as she saw his, arching across her cheeks until the muscles of her mouth ached; alas, she could not vanquish the grin, and at every bashful glance upwards it only prospered. Finally, her frazzled mind drew from its depths a fitting nickname for the russets male and, the wide grin fading into a shy smile, she simpers,
"Got one! . . . Fancy meeting you here as well, handsome."
For good effort, the internally fiercely blushing Euphie winks, putting on her best snaggletooth grin and sticking out the tip of her tongue comically. Any slivers of wisdom and intellect she possessed seemed to dissipate instantaneously in Rio's presence, and while in some faraway place her brain groaned in embarrassment at her ridiculous presentation, her heart simply sung.
Euphrosyne reaches up, somewhat cradling the male's muzzle with her tiny paws, looking deep into his eyes. The aforementioned expression of idiocy derived from unflinching happiness fades into one of quiet contentment and, in another of her oddities, her brown eyes seem to grow viscous, unfathomable. The summer haze seizes her, outlining Rio's physiognomy with a golden glow, and Euphie cannot help but smile with the essence of adoring quiescence.
"You're so much more handsome than I recall . . . does anyone claim your heart at this current moment?"
It's another stream of consciousness, falling from her lips with a dreamy sigh, and the buffoon that is Euphrosyne does not realize that she has spoken her thoughts . . . certainly she doesn't not realize she has sighed it so sweetly, so lovingly. She is unused to such strong attraction, unused to any sort of return affection and, thus, is overwhelmed by the simplistic fact that Rio is being as kind as he always was. It has the same effect on her that it did so long ago, with a small twist; now, instead of feeling flustered, she is nearly swooning at his paws. Instead of friendly, she now thinks of him as, what's the word . . . romantic.
Unaware of her blunder, as she always will be, the girl continues, eyelids once again dropping, but on this occasion it is out of serenity.
"I remembered the day we ran through the river with every paw step I took out of this place . . . I recalled your kindness with a strange happiness I could not name, and reminisced until I could no longer take the considerable proximity. So, I returned, and hoped you'd come, because I wanted so long to tell you something . . ."
She inhales softly, feeling uncannily lightheaded as she progresses with a courage she did not feel,
"I . . . I think I have very strong feelings for you."