While she had expected him to run in to her she didn’t quite expect him to put so much effort in to it. She landed solidly, a soft thump muffled by the damp floor the only sound as her weight shifted and redistributed. Her stance is wide over her sizable frame; though short she is stocky and thick. Never a lithe wolf, not a she-wolf who could meander about with sashaying hips that distracted all the males, but a Valkyrie built for one purpose alone. Her less than feminine physique had never been of much consequence, the teasing den-mates she had as a youth had quickly been silenced when faced with her displeasure and it was a lesson she had never forget. She would never be beautiful as they were, but she was always deadly which was enough for her.

Her two-toned eyes narrow as she watches Zaphkeil’s recognition of her and the too familiar glint of mischief in his own. She expects him to slow at least a small amount, assumes he would swerve and make an attempt at missing her, but as always he is determined to surprise her and not act as she expected. He seems to push for one last burst of speed at which she stabilizes herself, evening her stance and her own muscles coiling in anticipation. Perhaps he plans to try and leap over her, a feat which wouldn’t be too surprising with his advantage is height. He closes in and she is sure this is what he must be planning, convinced it could not be anything else… until he dives.

For a moment the world stands still as her breathing slows, entirely shocked and perplexed by his actions more like a pup than any grown wolf she had ever met, with the exception of a brother of course. Her eyes widen in surprise, her jaw actually going slack for a few breaths and with a very surprised, undignified yip from her black lipped muzzle they collide. His large frame skids across the thick carpet of grass under her own, jostling her on to his back due to the sheer force and size of him. Her paws scrabble searching for purchase but it is like she is swimming in the air as she finds none. Eventually he slides to a stop but her momentum keeps her moving atop him until she tumbles off and to the side.

She is back on her feet in seconds, not one to leave her self exposed and prone on the ground. With a soft growl she is back on him, her brilliant white form straddling his dark one as her teeth drive for his chest and head laying a series of bites that while punishing in nature were not intended to hurt him, merely give her own form of reprimand and make sure he knew how she thought of his little joke. In the middle of her chastisement something shifts and she finds herself laughing, a throaty laugh that was deep for her sex and so matched the rest of her. Her teeth still clipped the thick hair on the side of his head and throat but each mouthful was only muffling her laughter.