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His clothes smelled like fabric; they smelled much like her own clothes had when she had first discovered them, but with a hint of himself. "Himself" was a cologne much stronger: musky, masculine, and powerful, with a hint of gentleness that was almost undetectable to her sensitive nose. The young coyote were turned her head slowly into his chest, hiding there as she had hid against her father when she was younger, until the firm command to halt was put out to her. Every bone in her body locked, ever muscle grew rigid and still and, for a moment, she could almost swear her heart stopped pumping. Her very breath hitched audibly in her chest at the growing feeling of drowning in herself, in him, in everything around her that was unfamiliar. Everything, basically, rang a different bell from the one she had grown up dangling from. The fingers lifted and she tensed more, if it was at all possible, screwing her red eyes shut and flinching into him. The snap of fingers releasing and the brush against her short, dark hair was alert enough without the confirmation, but assure he did. Her heart started again, and she almost couldn't suppress a quietly nervous chuckle of relief.
Th-thank you, she breathed, pushing reluctantly against his side to distance herself from him. Even sitting down, the man (considerably older than she, of course, and even than her father) was an impressive height, lofty but not at all stringy or awkwardly built. He had muscles that showed in his arms and even his legs through his pants, suggesting he was quite strong, even though he held a banjo as if all he had ever known was music. The dark fur fed down from his brow and across his muzzle to the cream that painted his underside, elegant and a transition that was, she had to say, quite flawless. His hair looked almost soft to the touch, but was a rugged blonde that caught her attention with smatterings of colour: beads, she realised upon closer inspection. And the hat, which became the most important feature when she looked at it, was in its own right strange, yet fitting.
The man's jade green eyes got her attention next, a swimming, masculine, cold compliment to her warm and girlish maroon-red, even though she only thought about it because she couldn't do much but look at him. She shook her head slowly when handed his assumption and curled her legs beneath her on the couch, saying nothing.