[ the rubs. the rubs were good from this one. a gruff sort of scratching that made her hide wave with the flow of fingers, where the mandalorian’s hand would go missing beneath her winter coat. oh— oh, no, where where her manners, though? so used to people, children especially, waddling up to her to give her hugs and pull at her tail that ahmi forgets, for a second, that she could seem scary. have dogs frightened him, she wonders? having an incredible sense of what was going on, the she-wolf ceases her ecstatic pressing, but doesn’t pull away with speed. she waits, with ethereal patience for the child to feel ready. her nose was wet, cold even! but the rest was very soft, fluffy at absolute best.
she could remain absolutely composed by front, but where she decides to sit, the thumping tail gives her away. she’s encouraging his grasp with the softest of licks, just one as she extends her skull another centimeter for exploration— he could pull at her lips and ears with a powerful infant’s grasp, for all she cared. ]
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she could remain absolutely composed by front, but where she decides to sit, the thumping tail gives her away. she’s encouraging his grasp with the softest of licks, just one as she extends her skull another centimeter for exploration— he could pull at her lips and ears with a powerful infant’s grasp, for all she cared. ]