Firefly Glen keep me hanging on

As he’s busy licking at his paws—a mix of cleanliness and soothing the ache in his joints—he’s quickly distracted by the scent of another. The flicker of black crosses his vision and he glances up without moving his head and only slowly raises it when she’s close enough to state her intentions. Her movement is playful, without harm, but he notes the scent of others upon her fur. It resembles that of the pack to the west he’d skirted by on his way here and he wonders if perhaps he’d gotten too close and had been fallen.
 
Still, she gives him an easy option as he looks to the kill of the rabbit. There isn’t much left to it but he does not question why she wants it. Most of the meat is gone, for a lone wolf hunting on his own, and skin and bones and gristle remain uneaten. Coq nods his head after a moment and then picks himself up, carefully, and flags his tail once over his spine. It releases its position and hangs low and he adjusts the rest of his posture. He nudges the kill out of the way and, then, invites the girl to make the first move.