He’s being teased. Moonshade knew that she was out there somewhere between the trees trunks. One day; there is going to be jokes about him not being able to see the wood through the tress, or whatever that stupid figment of speach was. He can smell her in the air all around him. He can almost feel her lithe body dancing through the branches as gracefully as any feline. Well, she certainly was anything apart from disappointing. They said those wolves from the grasslands are ‘out of this world’. Golden eyes are almost flipping all over the forest floor like twin suns. All he wanted was a glimpse, like two ships passing at night, a little look is all he needed. Please? Just a glimpse of something exciting for once in my life? What’s a guy gotta do to see a calibre girl? He shakes out his ruff, to release some of the tension building up in his spine and shoulders. Of course the fallen mountain angel didn’t want to seem desperate for her attention.

Her tantalizing giggle broke through the palpable silence like a Cheshire cat. He is impressed that she not only managed to avert detection but also gain the higher ground. What a clever girl. A cold shiver of excitement ran up his spine, causing the long black hairs of his coat to sway like tussocks on a dunes ridge. She was more magnificent to behold in the flesh. Moonshade cocks his head slightly to one side and listens to her words. Her voice was more powerful than a choir stuff to the brim of angels in a tiny chapel. She speaks in simple words and he drinks in her every excotic syllable. Every click of teeth on teeth. Every purr in the back of her throat. Almost instinctively he bows his head to her but does not lower his golden gaze. In truth, he’s now almost staring at her like she’s an immortal goddess bound in mortal form, which is very pleasing to the eye, may he add?

Moonshade unfurls his dark tail and allows it to sway rhythmically back and forth, like a slow and heavy pendulum. He does not fully submit to the huntress lingering above him like a vulture but he certainly doesn’t want to scare her away. No please do come and take a closer look. And then she goes and ruins the moment by asking him, one, two, three questions? Seriously, can no wolf just … not talk? He grunts in response, almost frustrated by her nquistiveness. He brings a large paw to his muzzle and starts to scratch at his muzzle and lips with blunt and dirty claws. Stupid mouth. His brows are furrowed in deep concentration. How can I make her understand me!

Jaws take control and he clamps down into skin … his own. He’s buried his teeth in his own grey brindled leg, just below the elbow. After a few moments he comes to his senses. And he clamps down harder. Harder, harder, harder, and in a few milliseconds he’s bitten himself hard enough to rip blood from their normal routw. Primitively, he’s trying to talk to her. He lowers his bleeding leg to his rocky perch and watches his thick blood slowly roll down his leg. It’s only a surface wound, it will heal in a few days. He returns his attention to her eyes and tries to mouth one word, his name. Moonshade. And now, at least as far as he's concerned, their contract is sealed (whatever that might be).