Our skin gets thicker, living out in the snow
CREVAN
A pup, is what the elder wolf thinks when Sabrina exposes herself. The reddish-brown slip of a female entices his curiosity enough that at first, Crevan remains casual, calm. Only the hair between his shoulders pricks up as a warning: she could look all she liked, but if she were smart the she-demon would wait for an invitation to join.
He doesn’t begrudge her longing stare, only the red streaks in her fur and the way she reeks of brimstone and soot. Unnatural. This was no common wolf who’d come to feast at his kill. “That’s a good nose on the end of your face.” He snarls softly, pinning her with two dark blue eyes. “Spread your weight evenly next time and you might not make so much noise.” The overlarge brute suggests, a tad brusque.
Still unsure if he could trust her advance, Crevan eases his nose into the doe again for another bite. Not once do his eyes stray from her hesitant body, not even when he swallows loudly before rolling his tongue over perfect, shining whiskers. “Hmph.” He grunts after a moments thought. Then, “Well come eat, girly.”
The big male stands and shuffles a few steps back. “They call me Crevan.” He informs her, watching the way Sabrina moved and the sinewy, rust-tinted lines of her wide face. “But I’m bored enough to hear a story, so tell me yours.” He demands, smirking.
In his mind, it was the least she could do for his unexpected kindness.
@[Sabrina] Mr. Fake grumpy pants at your service