wc: 500+
Although he was supposed to be grateful when her hand dropped away from his chest (for her proximity was surely shutting off the blood flow to his brain), Caillen felt merely disappointed. His scarf looked dejected without her graceful fingers toying with it's tattered fabric folds. However, the manchild managed to keep his sheepish grin genuine, those incredibly sky-blue eyes keen upon the young lady's pretty features. Her soft agreement made him relax slightly - Either she hadn't noticed his stuttering, or she didn't care to call him up for it. Setting his shoulders straighter (for they'd slumped in dejection when he realized he'd made such a fool of himself), Caillen's white incisors sparkled at her in a wolfy smile. He was indeed a strange mix of wolf and dog - That one floppy ear twitched eagerly to catch the melodic sound of her voice, and the sun danced in the dapples of his collie pelt. But his size! His teeth! Caillen knew himself to be a strange lollybag mixture of breeds, and as such, her interest was welcomed. Being different was difficult, but not always intolerable, especially when it caught the eyes of pretty doves like herself.
His compliment, however awkwardly it had been given, had clearly hit a good note with Clover Love. She replied in that delicate voice, and the youth wondered absently if she could sing. He bet she could, and probably, she had the voice of an angel. While the poor sod waxed poetical in his brain - He fur was cascading gold in the sunlight, her eyes sunlit dew - for he was a Romeo, to heart, his maw remained affixed in that lopsidedly charming grin. There was no way such words could ever pass by his maw without them being all ruined by his own fallacy, this Caillen knew, and so he kept the little sweet-thoughts to himself.
Her question made him pause momentarily, sky blue eyes wandering vaguely to stare off into a memory as thought of home pervaded thoughts of miss Clover Love. Home. He wondered if Mama was angry at him, for departing the way he had... A brief sense of guilt stole over his handsome face, easily read as the pages of a book. Caillen was never very good at deception, and in truth, her was a horrible liar. Another thought caught his attention - If she was a coyote, which he now assumed her to be, then perhaps she'd not like the mentioning of his home? Ah, he didn't know, and this silence was making him seem mute!
"N-no... I dinnae come from here, miss Clover Love. I-I come from, err, from the Cour des Miracles pack." His gaze lifted to hers, seeking any disappointment or disapproval, and he quickly babbled on, "But I left, see, 'cause I needed tae wander. My feet got the itch. I am wanting tae see the world, miss! Or some of it, anyway." His voice faded off at the sentence's end, wistful eyes clinging back to her demeanor as the tall youth shuffled his weight slightly, re-crossing long legs. "What about you, miss? Where do you hark from?"
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