Honeyed Pasture sworn before a light of knife's edge white

His playfulness is matched and one brow rises, rolling his shoulder and leaning his head.  It takes a gamble running into another wolf but it’s been miles and miles since he’s last scent marker notation and there’s always some level of relief from tension when his newest companion is friendly. It has taken some getting used to when he’s so been familiar with the other wolves for most of his life. Things weren’t terribly hard but he’s given up the easy life and maybe she does want to bite him.
 
Maybe he wants her to.
 
“I’ve probably done at thing or two to deserve it,” he says, smirk widening. A front leg tremors and he dares to taunt her, lifting his chin a little and bouncing back. “But then again, there’s a reason I’ve come this far without punishment,” he offers, turning and darting through the grass.