Common

It was not often that the painted wolf left the sanctuary of the Inlet. Hardly ever really. However, the presence of the Lagoon stallion deep within the heart of the Tinuvel territory had warranted more than a mere warning. No. Loupgaru had not felt any sense of satisfaction until he tailed the brown beast all the way back to the borders of the swampland it had come from. Only then do the bristled hairs along his spine begin to settle back into place.

With a shake of his large head, the wolf had given the retreating figure a dismissing snort and turned for home. That is, until a familiar scent caught his seeking nostrils. Wolf. Brethren. He had not realized there were wolves here. On Tinuvel yes, mammoth beasts with thick fur and sharp yellow eyes, far different from the sleek, small creatures that had hunted in the shadows of the Atlantis jungle. But here? Curiosity won out as the muscular stallion immediately abandons his plans to return to the Inlet and instead follows the canine’s trail.

Blood scent filled the air, thick with its metallic tang. Squeals of anger and frustration accompany the retreating yips of the island wolf as Loupgaru slows his inquisitive pace in caution. He had all but expected to find a stallion prancing victorious circles around a snarling lupine. His expectation is instead met by a rather strange sight.

In the place of a victorious stallion, there is instead a mare. Not some meek-looking dainty creature, but a spirited, blood-bathed, fire-breathing demoness with pinned ears and narrowed eyes. An almost comical expression crosses his face as he watches in disbelief as she goes from flaunting Victor pawing deep gouges into the rich earth to an almost somber expression tainted by brief embarrassment as she changes direction. Was she lost? She must be lost. She had to be lost… and ripe for the taking.

A wolfish grin spreads across his whiskered lips as the beast gives his thickly muscled neck a shake and thrusts his strong legs forward. He may have lost his wolf-girl because of Parvati but that did not mean he would pass up a chance at snagging the pretty caramel-haired serpent girl. A rumbling noise echoes deep within his chest as the painted wolf closes the space between them. Golden eyes gleam playfully as the beast coils his thick neck and arches his body towards her. He is prepared to herd her back away from the potential protection of the meadows and the Peaks beyond them by angling his body between her and the freedom she might not realize she sought. He does not bank on her watching patiently as he approaches, instead ventures to believe that his approach would immediately lead them off into a merry game of cat and mouse. His only hope is that this time, he would be the victorious cat.