Fariha paused for a moment to see the Denmother's response. It didn't come off as aggressive or even cautious.. Well of course it wouldn't be cautious of a tiny elf like her. She slowly inched forward, her hand seeming to disappear into the luxurious white fur of the Dire Bear. It wasn't long before the wood elf had her entire body pressed against the soft fur of the Denmother. It was pure bliss. Fariha closed her eyes as she basked in the softness; the coat filled with the scent of the forest, intertwined with the smell of the mountains and places she couldn't begin to describe.

[color=a2d39c]"It is an honour.. Denmother.."[/color] She whispered in a happy tone.

The forest spirits within the young elf also wanted to revel in the magnificent coat of the Denmother, for they too knew of the legends that surrounded this figure. The rings on Fariha's hand glowed, spreading and enveloping her body in a soft, faint light. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for the young elf, the soft white fur had conquered all sense of urgency and time. She was out like a candle light on a windy day, a warm smile on her face as she fell asleep.

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[@Zelosse]