Gyrfalcon's Keep moored

Yes. Yes, he was hopeless. The male gave a solemn nod at this pronouncement, even as he eagerly met her ministrations with his own. The ginger of her collar intrigued him, and despite her words, Grayday could not help but run his tongue over the fiery furs and wonder if the color would wash away.

It didn't, of course. The silvery male could not find it in himself to be surprised. Odd as her coloration was, Grayday had seen too many strange wolves since coming to this land to be truly taken aback. But that didn't make her any less pretty, and Grayday wasn't any less taken by her.

"Okay, Spiritwalker," said Grayday, backing away from her before he began taking liberties inappropriate for two perfect strangers. "I think you're going to have to catch me some dinner before we go any further, here."

He sloshed back onto the riverbank and shook out his pelt, sending water droplets in every direction.