His reaction was unexpected. Just after her nose came into contact with him, his silvery blue and white frame began flailing wildly. Thanks to her still rather small size, Ambrosia was able to duck with ease and miss his paws that would have surely whacked her in the muzzle. But the white girl does not move back any from her position. Instead, she holds her ground, bright violet irises watching the boy closely.

There's not a sliver of threat in his body language or his expression. In fact- the longer the stardusted angelmarked girl watched him, the more and more he simply seemed.. scared. But of what? Of her? Ambrosia knew full well that she of all wolves was the furthest thing from scary, but, then again- he was a stranger and did not know her, so perhaps it was a normal thing. To fear that which is unknown. But how was that a way to live when it kept one from learning new things? She did not want him to feel afraid, and thus kept her position while she merely observed him.

There are no words between them, and as she continues to watch him, he's pinning his ears back and leaning as far away from her as he can manage. Did he wish to run from her again? But if so- why had he not done so already? Determined not to see him run off this time, Ambrosia is quickly falling to her belly. Though the mud lay wet and slick beneath her, undoubtedly staining her pristine alabaster fur, she did not care. What she did care about was the boy before her who she slowly began inching toward. She kept her muzzle low to the ground as well and her ears down, with a gentle whine sliping from her muzzle.

She wished to show him that she meant him no harm, that she was no threat and that he could relax. Perhaps he would heed what she showed him, or perhaps not. Perhaps words would be the only thing to calm his nerves, but before she would give him such a thing- Ambrosia wanted to see what he would do first. He had peculiar reactions to her thus far, and a part of her mind was curious to see just far he would go. And so it is with a certain curiosity that her wide violet gaze catch his own pale green and she waits. Waits for him to bolt, waits for him to speak- waits for him to move and do something. Anything at all. The spotlight is his, after all.

one // broken soul // no love // diveen