[For the duration of her making a big thing about reuniting with him, whenever he stumbles or loses balance, she's nudging her head and neck under his arm, somehow both trying to support him while... also knocking him over. See, if the weather were kinder, she'd have no hesitations about knocking him down entirely to clamber properly and bite his hair, and all the other lupine aggressive displays of over joyous reunions.
As it is, she seems caught between doing just that and remembering he hasn't the feet or legs suitable to terrain like this, and although she doesn't indicate it, she may as well be saying whoops! each time he goes unsteady.
He'll have to decide on his own if he's glad he reminded her of her being gone, shook her out of her relatively tense and stern mood to bring her back to... well, herself, because now she trudges through the snow with him keeping her side clamped to his leg. Wolves sometimes walk together like this, cats too, with an undeniable need to stay close to one of the ones they're fond of.
Watch it, she sends through him, and pushes fully against him, almost hard, guiding him away from something, her body curved to put space between him and it, to keep herself there like a shield between them. They're facing, or at least she is, the opposite way they've been walking, and she still stands unyielding before and against him, lowering her head with alert ears and a hard stare. The ghostly blue fire morphs itself into better view and flickers, but simply hangs in the air as if placed there by some invisible torch.
She relaxes a bit. It's one of the lights I told you about; we're finding our way. They're hard to see in this storm, so be sure to keep your eyes peeled, Peter.]
no subject
As it is, she seems caught between doing just that and remembering he hasn't the feet or legs suitable to terrain like this, and although she doesn't indicate it, she may as well be saying whoops! each time he goes unsteady.
He'll have to decide on his own if he's glad he reminded her of her being gone, shook her out of her relatively tense and stern mood to bring her back to... well, herself, because now she trudges through the snow with him keeping her side clamped to his leg. Wolves sometimes walk together like this, cats too, with an undeniable need to stay close to one of the ones they're fond of.
Watch it, she sends through him, and pushes fully against him, almost hard, guiding him away from something, her body curved to put space between him and it, to keep herself there like a shield between them. They're facing, or at least she is, the opposite way they've been walking, and she still stands unyielding before and against him, lowering her head with alert ears and a hard stare. The ghostly blue fire morphs itself into better view and flickers, but simply hangs in the air as if placed there by some invisible torch.
She relaxes a bit. It's one of the lights I told you about; we're finding our way. They're hard to see in this storm, so be sure to keep your eyes peeled, Peter.]