Wapun Meadow scared money can't win and a worried man can't love

A mewling noise escaped her as she tugged on the branch - the result of her instant gratification. Their interaction was so simple - so base in nature - that she could not help but feel subdued. His own mischevious snarl lead to a smirk growing upon her muzzle - a curious thing in appearance, especially with a stick between her ivories.

The female edged backwards, wrenching the stick back and forth within her grasp. She made sure not to exert too much strength - as she would have done with a pack juvenile. She needn't scare her newfound entertainment away - not with those dark skys threatening to darken her mood.