I tripped and fell, oops

Her ears perk, interested in the words he has to say. Being in this close of proximity with the man has her sense overwhelmed and not entirely in a bad way either. Focusing on his words though is rather difficult as his own smoky pine scent washes over her. It wasn't often Bramble found herself up close and personal with wolves of either gender (if she were being honest) and she felt rather out of her realm. Not that she would show that! Her expression would continue to be soft, but determined, a mixture of guarded playfulness that would dance on the edge of danger.

And now that she's steady on three of her paws, the injured ankle lifted slightly off the ground, she willingly leans against his shoulder. For once, a man her height! Color her impressed by the way her cheeks flush with warmth, his lowered octaves speaking breathy words to her. Even his accent was attractive, much different than the stand common tongue or Romanian that she had grown up with. "I am in no rush to my destination so time might just be on your side," she teases again, unable to resist flirting back with the man she had just met. He was so warm and strong, well balanced by what she could tell with how he so easily was able to help keep her sturdy.

"Arist-Aristo, hm," she pauses, baffled by being tongue-tied just as he had suggested. A wave of embarrassment washes over her as she gives him an apologetic look. "No, no, I'd rather get it right," Bramble murmurs, eyelashes practically fluttering in his direction - both that determined nature of herself and well, her trying not to completely swoon over him just yet. "Friends should get friend's names right," she winks, her own smirk wrinkling her muzzle as she leans fully against him now, relieved to alleviate the weight off of her sprained ankle.

She can see it in his eyes too. That mismatched icy blue and warm caramel looking directly into her soul. He's a gentleman, but not entirely... good. Uncertain why she can tell, but Bramble feels safer in his presence, as if anything bad coming her way would easily be banished. Was it truly him and how he was or was it her wanting to seek safety and comfort in more than just herself?

"I hardly believe my name could be a reward," she begins, her teasing tones light and playful, ready for him to lead the way to somewhere safer. "I go by Bramble Carpathius which is by far easier to say than Aristaios Praedatio," his name isn't completely butchered on her tongue, but it's at least a good attempt at something more than finding a suitable nickname. Would he consider Handsome or Devilish? She can see the confidence and mischief that emanates from him and she's drawn to it. A moth to a flame and she's not sad about it either.