A stone shifted somewhere in the darkness, and Ferox tilted his fine head to listen, ears twitching this way and that as he tried to pinpoint the source of the sound. A rather hopeless affair, since his eyes, accustomed to the light of the stars, couldn't pick anything concrete out of the yawning depths. As though she sensed his keen, lilac gaze on her, the stranger emerged from the blackness, her pelt almost (but not quite) as pale as his. Preceding her came a laugh, light and lyrical with just a hint of maniac. Ferox put his guard up, his hackles rising imperceptibly, one lip lifting to a reveal a single canine glistening in warning, but that was all. Her dark blue orbs fixated on him, she looked him up and down, her features unreadable as she spoke. He smirked mirthlessly, reminded of a conversation he had had just recently with a certain misinformed character that had fed Isola with rumours of war, “Certainly not Zeus. I always seem to have more luck with Yojimbo.”

His joke was raw yet meaningful, not that he expected the stranger to understand. He doubted she was listening anyway, peacocking around him with all the grace of a femme fatale and all the hidden malice of an assassin. Ferox made a point of never underestimating his opponents, no matter the flattery they offered up, and (although he too thought he deserved it) he possessed far less vanity than his sire, Heyel. The female regarded him silently, moving as fluidly as a stream, halting over to his left. He turned his head in order to keep her in his sights, beginning to enjoy her little show. It had been too long since he had spent a night of passion with a she-wolf, and he was in the frame of mind to remedy that personal little sin. He winked playfully at her, his former weariness all but forgotten, “Why do I get the impression that you bite?”

He was too much of a newcomer in Moladion to recognise the demon in her eyes, and too freshly integrated into his family to remember that they did not associate with the riff-raff under any circumstances. All the mates of his brothers and sisters were well bred and even Heyel's many lady-friends were refined and dainty. All the better for Ferox that he did not know such things, or else he would have had to have entered into their conversation knowingly and defiantly, as apposed to blissfully unaware of all the rules he was breaking. Not that he had ever been much of a rule follower. He flicked his tail, tipped in red, and rolled his muscles beneath his fluffy pelt, enjoying the supple way they moved beneath his skin. He was slightly over his prime, but still enjoying his relative youth. And, what better way to test his stamina than a rogue night of love-making? The thought excited him but he hid his eagerness well. After all, he couldn't let all the attention go to her head now, could he?