This moment is very strange for me. It is like I am doubled over with excitement and a sense of joy despite also hurting and being afraid. I don't know where I am getting such feelings, have no inclination that Israfel was my imprint or that I would feel so strongly for him and what he was feeling. Mother and father had told us of imprints yet it hadn't seemed particularly relevant. They were not imprints, just mates, and that seemed the simple and perfect way of the world. Either way I could sense urgency and I wasn't sure if it was from me or this whole situation. The boy worked hard to yank me from my trap and I struggled with him, eager to be free. I didn't want to die, even if I did miss my parents.

I feel a moment of embarrassment as his yelp rings in my ears, hating putting another in such a position of fright with my presence, but then I am turning towards him and pressing my nose into his. And he is pressing right back! My pale eyes widen in surprise at this exchange even as I pull back, heating beneath my fur and feeling incredibly flustered. It wasn't entirely unlike me to be like this - I often had an overwhelming feeling of anxiety when around others but I had done well to curb such fearfulness since my pup days.

Still, I catch his words and my ears fall back, even my floppy one, and I give him a small smile along with a giggle at his words. "Thank you, prince," I say sweetly, watching him puff up and giggling just a bit more. He was cute! And apparently a prince. Just that title alone made my heart flutter with nervousness, feeling quite suddenly inferior to him and yet I felt other things, emotions, that were completely at odds with my own. It was as if I was two in one and I was growing so confused by the exchange that I just turned to focus on my paw.

As I move to stand and wince he practically cocoons me around his body. I blink at him in surprise and then smile again, that sweet smile the same as before, ducking my head slightly as I lean into him. It felt so right to press against him and some urge wanted me to sniff him, to take in his scent. I had a feeling if I did though I would very well bury myself in it and make a fool of myself. He is taller than me and bigger so it isn't hard to move with him, even at my stilted limping pace. "I'm sorry to bother you," I say gently before repeating the words louder because it seems the blizzard has increased in fury, angry at being thwarted from its victim. "Where are we going?" I dip my head, eyes halfway shut against the force of the wind and stabbing snow, following him blindly because some part of me trusts him implicitly.

Secretly I was already re-hashing every moment of my saving with a sort of school girl squeal inside.