Common

A game. Prey versus predator. Cat versus mouse. That was what he expected. His golden eyes glittered with anticipation as the painted beast studied her pale features. He expected white-rimmed eyes and paper-thin nostrils to flutter with alarm. He expected to see the lithe muscles beneath her coat tense as they prepared to cast her off away from him with her chocolate tail tucked tightly against the curve of her rump. He was prepared to charge after her, to use the skills he developed when racing beneath the pine forests of the Inlet, to give him an advantage. The reaction he receives is far from expected.

She does not flee as he ingresses closer. Raven-tipped ears twitch as the first sign of confusion washes over him. Instead of meeting his intent approach with eyes widened in fear, her brows narrow in confusion. Was she new to the idea of being claimed? Had she never been forced into a herd stallion’s band before? Was she a lost peak mare? By the gods, he hoped not. He sure did not need to wake up to find a bunch of the burly mares knocking on the Inlet’s shores in search of their missing daughter. This thought gave him pause, his confident progress faltering as he came to a sudden halt.

The laugh that falls from her lips is his undoing. Russet ears cock forward as this time it is his turn to lift his head in alarm. Dark brows narrow in confusion as his large head tilts ever so slightly. What in the actual hell was going on here?!? The tone of her voice that follows is disbelieving, as though the very idea of his audacity was idiotic. This time, his dark ears tilt backward, reacting to the gnashing of her teeth. Heat seeps beneath the thick hairs of his coat, turning the patchwork skin beneath a bright shade of red in embarrassment. This was definitely not how he expected THIS to go.

The twitch of her tail causes his own to lash in annoyance. Dark lips press together firmly as he stomps a foreleg angrily, his own cracked hoof ripping at the yellowing grasses. Leave it to him to find the only ‘touched’ mare in the whole damn place! Call it pride or well… yeah it was pride at this point. Pride refused to allow him to turn tail and abandon any further attempts with this blood-caked creature. He was a son of the wolf after all!

The look of determination must have manifested itself unbidden upon his roguish features for whatever amusement had her in bouts of laughter only moments ago disappeared. The smirk that appears on her pink lips is almost sinister as she drops her refined head to paw the torn earth between them in her own reply. ’Bring it on then.’ The challenge is issued, giving him only a moment to decipher its meaning before she rushes to action. Instead of turning tail to flee, as he had expected her to do, this brazen little creature turns on him. She was switching the script! At least, attempting to anyway.

A feral scream bellows from his lungs as the scarred beast does his best to gather what wits still remain in his head. Coiled muscles release as he thrusts his own muscular body forward, tucking one forelimb beneath him just slightly enough so that he is able to lift his left shoulder in the forward motion while simultaneously dropping the right to brace himself for the contact that was coming. If he were a wiser creature, he might have lifted his head from reach by uncoiling his arched neck. But the wolf is cocky. Instead, he angles his head towards her onslaught, hoping that the tangled closeness of their bodies would give his searching teeth access to the vulnerable point of her withers. Maybe he can actually come out of this with a bit of dignity intact after all.