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She is stopped dead not five feet from this stranger, foggy in what she ought to do. He is small enough not to pose a threat (or her brain tells her in light of knowing quite a few monstrous in size), but he is still strange, alien. If only she had a greater understanding than the basics of her memories. She knows only what short sentences might tell.
Strange. Small. Male. Healthy. Confused. Intrigued.
He is looking at her, she cannot be sure for what reason, though. It would seem he had more on his mind than she had interest in knowing - until he speaks. “Um… hi.” He says to her, his voice is neither soft nor smooth, but not as gravel either. It is alluring in a gut-deep manner of speaking, churning a heat behind her ribs and at the scoop of her abdomen. Her tail flicks, a short wag, an admittance that there was appeal to her in his greeting, for all that it was awkward and ungainly.
She dips her head a little more, though she is less tensed to bolt as she does this and she extends her muzzle both to greet and to investigate.
Warm. Young. Virile. Pack. Sitting.
He moves to sit instead of stand and though she crouches, she does move forward with a low slung wag begun at the tail. She is a female, newly awoken in body, and she has no mind with which to temper the initial and shameless draw she had felt even as soon as the end of summer towards the males of her kind. She wonders for only a moment before her body deciphers her question into a skittered playbow that had her haunches wagging as much as her waving tail.
Is he Strong? Swift? Full enough of life to share it?
If she had been at all herself, she would not have even wondered about it at all.
the little lass of nowhere
female | 4 years | 23 inches | 63 pounds | no mate | no imprint
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