Redhawk Caldera Mountains beyond mountains

She was undeniably distracted. “Don’t even think about it,” rumbled the voice straight in front of her. She could barely help herself, but in terms of the hierarchy of instinctual reactions, a poised and bristling alpha male easily won out over the still rather striking opportunity for a quick kill. As her eyes darted towards him, she tucked her tail, though it still swayed in an outward display of amicability, and she splayed her ears and dropped her posture. Only out of incredibly prying curiosity did her shimmering eyes flick momentarily back to the now apparently unoccupied hole in the ground, and she just as quickly put her eyes back where they belonged.

Peregrine cut an imposing figure, like a stag in his virile prime, and the salted contrast of white on his face only served to complement the experience in his deeply dusky green eyes. The fact that one of those eyes had obviously suffered trauma barely registered as anything more than an identifying physical feature: it was simply a mark of life and survival.

Sassafras, she answered swiftly. You wouldn’t happen to have a lenient policy on taking in strays at this time of year, would you? Particularly if the stray promises up and down that she’ll be useful?