Paint the colours of the wind

The happiness she gained from the gift was undeniable. He watched her for a moment, watched her tail sway behind her and tears of joy leak out. She was so free with her emotions, she expressed them so easily. Sadness, fear, joy… attraction. Watching the joy take over her body, he knew how badly he wanted to push her up against the cave wall behind them. Perhaps they'd splatter paint through their coats as they gave themselves over freely to their emotions. To be so free…


He took a step back, knowing it was the choice he could make. “The walls could do some color. Perhaps you could mark each cave - the storage and baths, sleeping dens, market entrance. You've the freedom to do so. enjoy your paints, Little Songbird.” He told her, backing out a little further. Not quite ready to turn his back and remove her from his view.