She stiffens at the first pokes and rises, hackles lifting and a half snarl about to cross her lips, but there is something familiar about this special dance, and a memory older than her rises to interpret. She remembered no litter mates, and her mother had been quick to tire of her play as a pup. She yipped, dipping her front end only briefly before spinning away, tail level and wiggly, eyes dancing as she races around him.
Previous intentions of pummeling him are forgotten. After all, she is still a young wolf, even if she had no pack or group to play with. She came in close, pawed his shoulder and took off again, mouth open in a grin. Playing is not only for hunting skills but also for relieving tension, and building trust, both things she needed at this point in time. Raptor stops after a minute, relaxing in the dirt, perhaps wondering if this will last.
But relationships tend to be filled with illusion. She had thought her relationship with her mother would have lasted forever, or at least until she was grown, but that had been folly. Was this to be where she put her trust now? She studied him, still relaxed, lavender grey eyes searching for a soul, or lack there of. Perhaps she could sense the connection, if a fragile thing, a distant twinge. She would see. Give the lad a chance at least. So far he was proving useful. She could always eat him later. |