Firefly Ravine lieder eines fahrenden gesellen

<3!

mahler felt a glissade of tension at the other's approach, his broad stride and the blonde underlights of the dark pelt holding the light. but the musiker understood they were well-met; he swept back sable ears and gave a soft chuff as the stranger nudged him gently. there was not the scent of wolves wreathed through the other's guard hairs; he was alone, and mahler had no way to know that this creature had been turned away from his own coastline.
taking the other's breath in return, the dappled wolf drew back to consider the hale features. "mahler," he offered in his usual brusque tone, though there could be said this time the element of curiosity was more present in his accented tones. the stone of his lilac eyes studied the other as mahler waited for a rejoinder; here was interest, here was music.