brave as a noun

Zoey blinked as the male spoke softly, offering some space for her to walk up next to him, but no pressure to be right next to him, either. He had to give her a good once-over beforehand, which she understood to some degree..though still, in her naïve childlike eyes, it seemed more like he was eyeing her like a piece of prey. Her parents instilled within her a great deal of information, even in such a short frame of time before their utimaely, glowy-fungus deaths. One of which was to be wary of strangers - she’d made friends with a younger child before, but it was the adults she had to be careful of. Still, as she approached the male on soft baby feet and tilting her russet head, she realized she did meet a few adults on the way to this place and nothing bad happened. That didn’t mean she trusted him wholeheartedly just yet, but considering her positive experiences this far, she didn’t think it would be so bad to follow him. And he did call her a gracious adventuror - that she definitely was!

Curiously sniffing the drawers the older male was investigating - her checking out the smaller bottom ones and he the higher ones - he soon replied to her inquiry about his armor. Though, he was a bit preoccupied with ripping apart a drawer he’d been looking at. Backing up to give him space, she nodded at his response. He didn’t look for bad wolves to fight, and only fought if his home was threatened. It made sense, and it sounded heroic in a sense. Why wouldn’t you defend your home if someone threatened it? Suddenly curious as to what this home was for the wolf, she tilted her cinnamon chin up to the armored wolf and asked, "Oh, I see! What’s home for you? Do you have brothers and sisters? Or a mom and a..dad..” Though enthusiastic and bubbly at the first part of the sentence, mentioning siblings and parents made her tiny voice trail off into the air, a feeling of gloom and grief settling there instead. It was clear now, to the older male, that the child was truly an orphan. Still, the sad pause was interrupted when the male’s claws finally paid off in tearing apart the rotted drawer, and the pup stepped back to allow the splinters to litter the stale carpet beneath their feet. She wasn’t totally concerned about her distance from the wood - her goggles obviously provided some degree of protection from foreign objects. She peered into the drawer like he did, craning her neck to observe the mold littering the corners. ”Oh, careful you don’t breathe that stuff in! Some molds can make you super sick,” She chirped out of the blue, her inquisitive tone returning to its excitable zest. Still, her previous comment left an impact in her wide, big eyes, which still reflected her isolation.

The male then commented on her goggles, and a bright smile curved her lips as she tapped them with one claw and said, ”Oh, they’re not for swimming. My parents made them for me because my eyes can’t focus well on things by themselves. The glass is curved so I can see far away stuff better!" Her tail even wagged a bit, her eager nature beginning to show the more she opened up to the male - a sure sign of trust. He was curious about her, and she was curious about him.

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