-Diorae-
She falls in step behind him, a little to his right side to not walk directly in his trail. There is no way she even thinks about walking besides him, they aren’t equals and she wasn’t going to ruin things. Not when she was finally not alone anymore. So when he stops to turn to her, Diorae automatically halts too.
Hazel eyes follow his movements and she lightly lifts her head, but it’s his hot breath and the words that are whispered in her ear that sends shivers down her back. If it had been possible for a horse to flush, she probably would’ve been as red as a tomato. Neither can she use words to tell him to stop tell lies. Diorae dips her head flustered, shaking her head and flapping her ears slightly. But instead she shyly brushes her lips over neck – the cheek was far too intimate at this point.
As he travels further her eyes close and a soft breath escapes past her pale lips. Before she knows it she’s slightly leaning in Longclaw’s direction, her muscles finally relaxing which allows her tail to sway gently. His promise, in order to accomplish that, he would always be near her, she wouldn’t be alone anymore. She pulls back slightly, her neck bending to look at him with her left eye, putting her trust in him and trying to show it by smiling at him.
When they continue she’s walking besides him, her head aligned with his shoulder. As they walk, sweet words are carried to her ear. But that is not what makes her sharply look up, as being stung by something. Diorae tilts her head at the name he had given her, blinking her eyes a few times. Marigold? That wasn’t her name, and just when she’s about to shake her head to tell him no, she doesn’t. There was no way she could tell him what her name was, and it wasn’t that there was someone around how knew her real name.
And secretly Diorae liked it. He named her, he cared enough to name her. A smile tugs on the corners of her lips ans she turns to look at him, a slight tilt of her head, snorting softly as she leans in to push the velvet of her nose against his neck. It’s all she can do, her voice failing her, but hopefully it would be enough. It makes his question strange to her. Her gaze is not on the water, though the sight must be good, and instead she looks at Longclaw, confused.
Wasn’t it clear enough that she would go with him? She had followed him when he had walked away. He had promised to keep her from harm and even decided to name, or nickname, her. She takes a small step forward, reaching out to brush her muzzle across his shoulder before dropping her head and nodding.
She would follow him anywhere, even if it turned out that Hell’s gate was their destination.
A beautiful face is a mute recommendation.