ooc:
As the warm press of fine fur and flesh graced her own, she thought nothing of betrayal, but of the kindness she felt within that warm touch. A healing compress upon a wound that never truly healed and within it, a remedy had been offered to her even if it were a fleeting one.
The smile that turned her lips was one of gratitude birthed by the heart and conveyed in silence when her tongue was too heavy to say it aloud. She had found since the departure of her beloved, that none understood that sort of pain she lived with. What she still lived with. She had been so blindly in love then, too ignorant, too unprepared for the loss that she was left scathed raw with no means to truly mend the damage. This was perhaps the first time she had received a comforting gesture that was not offered out of sympathy, but of genuine understanding. And she was so very grateful for that.
Words of sorcery had her body trembling pleasantly and endearing giggles spilled from her parted maw. It was amusing to be addressed as part of what her culture would call the UnSpoken, those that practiced what the Nomads deemed unfit for their lifestyle. In one form, it could have been an insult, but in this instance she understood it to be a flattering gesture. An expression of captivation. A little tease that swept her tail gaily through the grass had her heart fluttering excitedly. “I am merely the Issor- the Shepard of my Family,” she whispered, lowering her muzzle to slip beneath his chin and breathe in the masculine allure there in. “There is no spell… but the words of a wolf that has shared your pain, who’s desire is that you do not suffer as she had alone;” Drawing strength from his warm, she sank deeper into him with gold maw plunging into its obsidian refuge. Again, she breathed deeply, finding the words to continue. “…that you are not forever robbed of happiness regardless of the blessings the ancestors bequeath to you.”