chronically cautious

Listen. For all her smutty stories and idle fantasies, Maki was naïve as they came. She'd never even kissed anyone before, but had used the phrase their tongues battled for dominance more times than anyone ever should. It ought to be illegal really, someone lock her up and throw away the key, make her think about the numerous literary crimes she had committed and repent. Whatever that would entail, maybe she should write some poetry instead, a few haikus even.

Point being, she'd sort of waxed overly fluffy and meandering prose about the passions of heat and what not, but experiencing it for herself the first time? This weren't it chief! And she didn't know what to do with herself, because even if she kinda liked the idea of adulty things-gosh she was sort of an adult now?- she was a chicken and frankly, not the crumbliest cookie.

So she found herself wandering, itchy paws and itchier pelt. Reasonably, she knew she wouldn't find any hunks here, but darn it! Where was her meet cute! With a growl, about as threatening as a fox, she lunged at a nearby vine yanking at it hard, making the tree it was connected to rustle and shudder.