The wood seemed to come to life with the touch of the wind and the cry of the foxes within. Kavos prowled between the looming trunks with a lean frame and a silent swagger that emanated from his predatory figure. The sound of the red-furred creatures seemed to linger on the air like a day worn spell from some woodland nymph. It was difficult for the ghost to comprehend theories of magic in a world that knew very little of it. It was all that his life had lacked, and he had instead been thrust into an existence that was comprised of only challenge. Burning but cold at the same time.
The leonine stalker sauntered forward at a quick step. The breath of the wood fell against the lengthy wisps of his buttercream coat. The savage regarded the passing trees with little interest, marking a mental roadmap in his mind of where he had been and where he was going. In his mapping, the ghostly creature caught sight of the stunning red woman before he had ever scented her. Immediately, he recognized her as the wolf who had stumbled upon him and his convenient catch. After another moment, her aroma drifted toward him and he drank in it with a placid expression.
The brute paused in his steps and waited to see if the woodland woman would sight him, or if she would pass him by without regarding his presence. The tempest tossed against his frame again, teasing the boughs of the trees overhead with a kind of tenderness before disappearing. Kavos breathed deeply the musky tone of the wood and lowered his skull toward the earth. His shoulder jutted from his back in sharp angles; the tension in his frame was palpable.
The woman in red seemed to take notice of him, approaching as though she had been invited. The ghost watched her with a heavily furrowed brow and a slight curling of his lip. It was almost far fetched to think the predator was anything of the inviting sort. Though his posture remained neutral, the golden glint of his jaguar gaze was vivid enough to warn others of his presence. If the red-haired woman would approach him, he would have considered his shape to be admonitory enough. It should not have been surprising to her if things did not manage to go her way. It would not have been surprising to any other.
Kavos regarded her with a careful stare. His head remained low to protect the tender underside of his throat and chest. The fur at his shoulders and nape seemed to jolt to life at the woodland scent of her coat. When she did look at him, it was brazenly. The emerald green in her gaze seemed to glint, catching the light from the luminous sun. She brought her gaze to settle with his and held it there far longer than she ought to have. When the ghost issued a quiet growl, he expected her to look away.
“What is it you want?”
The red woman turned from him and left him with a satisfied feeling in the thrumming of his heart. The ghost did not pride himself on frightening women – no – but he did feel a sense of comfort at the confirmation that his presence was carefully regarded. The green of her gaze was pulled from the fires of his own and averted to a more acceptable target. Kavos did not stir from his position, but listened with a fleeting brush of confusion as she blurted her recollection of him.
“You thought I should die after catching her rabbit?”
It was then that his social inability seemed to take a step forward. The predator did not understand how she should have found any sense of surprise in the fact that he could be found, or how it might have correlated with the other woman's lack of hunting skill. For a moment, his brow furrowed over his wildfire gaze; Kavos did not pull his stare from her figure for even a moment. The tone in his voice was not difficult to grasp; he required an answer.
For all of her girlish peeps, Kavos only regarded her with a quiet reserve. If he were another man, perhaps it would seem almost magical - their meeting that way. The light of his eyes shone warm with melting gold, but the way in which they sat upon his face was brumal and distant. Still, he did not dare to remove his vision from her features. Though she did not look upon his face with more than the quickest of glances, he knew the emerald of her eyes. He had seen the way that they searched and all of the knowledge behind them. It had only taken a moment, but that was more than enough. The ghost was silent, but wary. He had never had to endure the trials of a witch before. Gracious in social environments he was not, but there was no wall between them aside from her fear.
”Mmm,” he rumbled softly once her tirade had been silenced and the whisper of the wind was all that met him. ”And why were you thinking of me?” the brute inquired after a moment of contemplation. His predatory glances were met only by the red top of her crown as she focused on the little space between his forepaws. In all the world, why was it that this woman would think of him? They had only shared a glance, after all. How was it that the fiery woodland creature had settled on the image of the haggard young ghost?
There was something to be said for her fleeting moment of boldness. It was as though it had grasped her out of nowhere. It had pulled her gaze up from his limbs and fastened them to his molten stare, lashes fluttering. He wondered for a moment if she was attempting to soften him with the sweet tone that she had taken, but he found himself gripped by a labyrinth of further questions. For only a moment, his skull pulled back in a recoil. His limbs seemed to stiffen and the burning of his gaze latched to the red of her face, and the emerald of her forestry eyes. What a peculiar thing for her to say to him, and yet he was left wondering. Perhaps it was the lack of social graces that lead him to furrow his brow thoughtfully and crease the line of his mouth.
“And how is it that I looked at you?”
The answer was not to be expected. Though, if Kavos had truly been paying attention to what the girl was saying – how she was behaving – he would have found that it aligned well enough. The ghost knew very little about her, though, and it left him with a peculiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. The pale specter did not deal with emotion well; he did not know what she expected of him. If he didn't understand, he wished to ask... and he didn't understand how he had looked at her to entice such an alluring expression on the red woman's face. “You lack confidence,” he remarked without caution. The molten color of his eyes latched to her features and did not budge from their position. It was not intended to insult, but Kavos wished to understand why she could not gather the strength to spill what was within her.