Fishblight Mire feels like day two of an endless war

A chuff sounded, culling his notice. Lengthy ears swiveled atop his crown, and the coywolf turned his muzzle sharply in the direction of the call. All at once, his burnished gaze settled on a large figure. His stature was proud, broad-shouldered and wild. Abruptly, the moonlighter bristled and swung his ears to flatten against the top of his skull. A glimmer of light betrays the other male and his colors are made clearer to the spindly-legged Tadec. Remarkably enough this stranger in the murk was not full-blooded, but he was still wolf – like Tadec – a mongrel in his own right. Intrigued, the male tip-toed forward on broomstick limbs and latched the bronze of his gaze to the stranger's face.

Lifting his muzzle upward, the coywolf studied the stranger with a sharp glint in his gaze. The male was strong and handsome, in his own right. Were it not for the wolf that muddied his physique, Tadec would have found him luring and appealing. Still, he could not bring himself to hold attraction with one so close to Tiel'c. The tongue of the wolf lingered in the back of his mind. He was not entirely proficient in their language, but he was capable of scraping through.

“Hel...lo,” he greeted in a quiet tone. The timbre was surprising in comparison to his size and shape. Still, the fur along his neck and spine stood rigidly, spiking like wild flames against the darkness of his base coat. Tadec did not flee; he regarded the other male carefully, but he did not flee.