[Her heart quavers. It can't be helped. Few know her, few know her name but few, so very few, can see her this plainly. And even then, not only see her, the strangeness of her, but acknowledge her without a shred of doubt. The earthen form she has struggles to be heard, struggles to reassure, struggles to find the means to tell the whole of life to believe and to not give up. This shape tests faith, but to test faith is to exercise it, which in turn means to restore it, or to strengthen it, or to bring those who've always been lost into consideration of faith as a possibility.
High-pitched whine stumbles out of her, she plants her forehead against his palm for sake of nearness and sake of thanking him for not doubting, for not turning away, or being fearful, her eyes closed behind his hand. This is who I am, she wishes she could say, and wonders if her presence permeates it to him all the same, in some way. But she's still her, still dopey wolf, feeling no urgency to act superior, and after she takes a moment as if to absorb his recognition, to fully engulf and appreciate it, she slips under his fingers with pressing deliberation.
Then, she's all helpless wolfishness, fawning over him in her gratitude, her side practically flopping against his legs, her ears down, her whimpering subconscious, and constant, and yet chipper. She rears on her hind legs to try to find his arm or shoulders with forelegs, her tail swiping with gleeful violence, and in her happy-crying, she's trying to lap his face.]
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High-pitched whine stumbles out of her, she plants her forehead against his palm for sake of nearness and sake of thanking him for not doubting, for not turning away, or being fearful, her eyes closed behind his hand. This is who I am, she wishes she could say, and wonders if her presence permeates it to him all the same, in some way. But she's still her, still dopey wolf, feeling no urgency to act superior, and after she takes a moment as if to absorb his recognition, to fully engulf and appreciate it, she slips under his fingers with pressing deliberation.
Then, she's all helpless wolfishness, fawning over him in her gratitude, her side practically flopping against his legs, her ears down, her whimpering subconscious, and constant, and yet chipper. She rears on her hind legs to try to find his arm or shoulders with forelegs, her tail swiping with gleeful violence, and in her happy-crying, she's trying to lap his face.]