(--)
Myrika is by me!
Almost shyly, the tawny-furred woman reached up and placed her hand on his paw, squeezing it. They're not, she agreed. Though the redhead wondered what had ostracized Max so, she might have guessed -- he was an anomaly amongst the dusty colors of the coyotes. His pale fur marked him for an outsider here, just as her ears and slender muzzle had made her an outsider amongst the wolves of Thornloe. She didn't want to press him any more than she wanted to be pressed, however, and she left off.
He was scrutinizing her then, and she grew more still, aware of his gaze on her. It was an unpleasant feeling, and her discomfort grew until she was preparing to speak. Just as she would have opened her mouth, however, Max opened his and spoke. Astonished, the redhead gave a snort of laughter and grinned. Maybe. His damned head is definitely bigger than mine. She squeezed his paw again, glad to see him smile. It was a welcome change from the storm that threatened to break over his face just a brief time ago.
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