Meadow

He feels a thrill, finding a second of his own make here on these strange biome islands. She is surprised when he comes alongside her, matching her legs and the bob of her head in her pace. They make swift work of the beach - his voice ringing in the night air and spurring her to stumble her step. He circles around her to make sure he matches her stride once more, noting how she was no longer so free with herself as she had been before his speaking to her.

It baffles him, that she would be so stunned by his speaking as to lose her step. He smiles because she is still beautiful in his eye and the curl of her ears deserved the curve of the corner of his lips. "Uhm, I suppose, sorry…" She mumbles, almost losing him the words in the wind of even their slower movements. He can’t say he judges, though he investigates. His neck extends his nose to her while they run, but she swerves in the opposing position just as he does so - excusing herself and making him squeal as he pulls up short to whirl and try and catch back up.

“That could not have satisfied you, not yet. You’ve not even begun!” He is not the most clever wooer, but he was awfully talented at reminding people of their vices and perhaps sowing a few vices in those who had none yet. “Does this not feel right? Your stride, mine, so perfectly matched?” He tosses his blonde mane, squealing a wild call that was for sheer jubilant boistrousness. He even pulls ahead just a little, then drops back with a momentary slowness, so that he might pull up alongside her other side. “Dance with me a while longer!”