if these wings could fly for the rest of our lives
He could be an elephant. Maybe. He was kind of tall like one and elephants were really really REALLY tall. Though he wasn't fat like an elephant. Maybe he could have been a giraffe? They were SUPER tall like him and they were thin like him and they liked to eat all the salad that he liked to eat too! He could totally be a giraffe. Olly could definitely eat a giraffe, she was like...99.999999999% sure Oliver could eat a giraffe. I mean...not that he was fat...but his bear was all big and like RAWRRRRR! That bear could defo eat a giraffe. "Olly, do you think giraffes are easier to eat then elephants?" She inquired as the girl skipped next to the man at her side - their bellies were all filled with super-duper yummy fishies and the sun was shining brilliantly in the sky. It was the perfect sort of afternoon to take her bestie to go meet her potential pack leader. Is that what they called them? Leaders? Kings? Maybe he was a King? A president! THE PACK PRESIDENT. That must be awesome. Could she be president too? Maybe she could be a vice-president. Or like.....a secretary? Did packs need secretaries? Probably was way better than being a waitress. Oh, look! Hopscotch! Abigail paused abruptly in her path as her hazel eyes skirted over the bright pink outline on the sidewalk in front of them. "Look, Oliver! I've never done this before, have you?" She inquired, her auburn hair bouncing as she pivoted in place to look back at the man. Really, come to think of it, Oliver didn't look like the sort of man that jumped. It was too bad. Maybe she'd just have to hopscotch by herself.

Effortlessly, Abigail jumped in the first box with both feet, a girlish giggle on her lips as she announced the number beneath her. "One!" She jumped into the second square, "Two, three, four...." Abigail continued to jump into each square, the girl entirely oblivious that she was playing the game wrong up until she got to number 10. "TEN! THE END!" She announced with utter glee, those giggles consistent on her lips before she turned her hazel eyes back towards those colors of row houses. Although Oliver had his driver take them to the Southern neighborhood, the young panda girl had been all but incapable of directly the sleek black town car to the exact correct house. She'd been more than ecstatic that she'd even recognized the general neighborhood - much less vaguely remembered THAT PARTICULAR LIGHT POLE at the end of the street. Though Edgar had been more than willing to drive up and down those streets until Abigail was certain she'd found that house she'd been to exactly once, the young Irish woman was quick to brush off the idea. It would be far easier to remember, she was sure, if she could walk those streets the exact way she had when she had been with Malia - reliving those moments somehow utterly vital to the spurring of her memory. Oliver seemed all but determined to hover behind her, the man utterly incapable of looking at ease, or so Abigail was certain. Nevertheless, she hardly complained about having her super-duper uber protective friend with her. After all, she didn't get MUCH time with her bestie because he was so so so so soooooooooo busy! It was better to enjoy EVERY SINGLE moment she got!

"Oh! This is the one!" Abigail announced suddenly, the girl stopping in front of a particularly quaint two-story home with blue siding. She glanced over her shoulder at her best friend as the girl all but skipped up the walkway of the quiet home. Really, it almost seemed like no one was home with how peaceful it was. There was no clamor of children and Malia being her loud doggy self....or even that other travel girl whose name she had forgotten. Hm....how curious. A small contemplative glance crossed her features as Abigail abruptly paused in front of the doorway. One slender finger reached up as she pressed the doorbell, the young woman listening as the bell resounded somewhere deeper into the house. How....chimey. Diinng diinnnng doooooonnnggg. Somewhere inside, she heard a door open and close faintly, prompting the tilt of her head as she glanced into the glass panes of the front door. It was only when her hazel eyes met the slender figure of the man in question that a soft squeak left her lips. "Oh, he is home! Goodie!" Really, looking at that hard stare - he definitely wasn't a giraffe. Yup. She'd been right the first time. TOTALLY a moose! Abigail could hardly help stepping from foot to foot as she waited for Frost to answer the door and yet, the very moment he did Abigail hardly allowed even a WORD to leave his lips before she all but bounced around him. "HOW BIG ARE YOUR HORNS?" She bet they were the BIGGEST BESTEST HORNS EVER!