Even as dusk falls he slides from the rock that he has perched himself on throughout the day. Natiya had yet to wander the free lands yet nor did he allow her such a privilege. Soon she would be ready to come with him but for now only his claws deigned mark the soil away from Glorall. Only his scent must remain permanently entwined beneath the trees of the woodlands and the rocks of the crags. The year had begun to stretch him moreso than the first one and he had begun to grow into his adult body swiftly.

His legs were not so long as to appear disproportionate to his body but they were somewhat stocky and his figure appeared lean with exception to his chest. His frequent fights with Zharko had honed his figure into an athletic one. The cowlick on his forehead might seem to give him the air of youth still yet the cruel twist of his mouth and the sly cant of his eyes did much to disprove such theory. In the last year he had learned of his father's teachings and quite blatantly scoffed at them.

Often he was left with bruises and torn skin after altercations with Underidge. He despised the male and it was equally reciprocated.

He had no intentions of crawling back to Glorall on this night, a sort of intrinsic need to pace the wilds as winter set burning within him. Still too young to participate in the sport of winter he preferred to watch from afar, to judge and calculate and understand. His hormones were restless but without much to distract him, it was hard to get a figure on what to do.

Until he spies the silvery figure of Eve in the distance, tail up and eyes roving with intensity. The last time he had spent any notable time with the female they had tagged up against the mouthy princess of Diveen. If Wren had been caught between his jaws he would have ripped her apart, although his milk teeth would never have actually finished it. But now.. now he grinds his thick teeth together and grins in sudden exhilaration.

With a grunting leap he begins to pad towards her, tail and shoulders high as was his signature. There was no bowing, no submission. He had been born a fighter, a conqueror, and he would follow through in the years to come.

"Eve..."

The name slithers out of his maw in a caressing, suave fashion that is interspersed with a sense of possession. He is much taller, much more now as he comes to walk beside her. They are more equal than before.

"Let us find some prey."

And judging by the wicked grin, he knew she would understand what he meant.