Alpine Lake Walk a tightrope on a razor's edge.

Following his run-in with the coyote and with the afternoon heat doing nothing to improve his mood, the pale wolf turned his attention inland. He travelled smoothly and swiftly in his eagerness to escape the sun's intensity, and paused to rest for a time when he found himself some shade.

After a brief nap, Viinturuth carried on as evening crept in. Entirely unaware of the tragedy that'd rocked his brother's young family, he was in no rush to reunite. He could smell fresh water on the air and took a detour toward the source, and was delighted to see that the lake was vast. The water he lapped at was crisp and cool, and he drank deep.

there is a cloud upon the water's edge.

pale man, large, his pelt voluminous like beautiful cumulus masses, those harbingers of rain. she watches him from across the lake, then begins to round it, keeping her eyes trained upon him as she does so.

warrior, she thinks. a waste if he wasn't, given his size. handsome, and not so old. she's lain with ugly souls and has taken her pleasure there well enough. . .but she much prefers a chiseled visage, a rugged frame.

he fits this preference to perfection.

rajul min jurjia, anarkali sings out, leaving the shelter of the brush and appearing into view several paces from him. she has not made much effort to keep her approach silent, so by now, he must have some idea of what is to come.

but the jewel is full of secrets—secrets he will not, cannot know until he cracks her open.

The words of another, distinctly female, spoken on a tongue foreign to him, caused a pallid lobe to splay sideward. He'd probably have ignored her if he'd been able to tell that the voice belonged to a coyote, but it was a bachelor's curiosity that drove him to point his muzzle toward her in quiet acknowledgement.

The frown and furrowing of his brow spoke volumes: he was not thrilled to see the creature.

Viinturuth's sterling guard hairs pricked, lifting across his nape and shoulders and along the length of his spine. He stared with a fierce hatred for her, for her species as a whole, and the curl up his upper lip warned her to keep her distance. 

sorry for the wait!

pique emerges within her gaze at his reaction, though it is quickly replaced by a feigned amusement as she stares on. ah, the fierce wolf king! protector of his realm! 

they are all teeth and terrible fury, but all of them, at their core, in desperate need of a warm body, whether to feast upon or to fuck.

they are all the same. she knows.

i am sorry, anarkali says in carefully-enunciated common speech, still a little unsure of each word. she sheds the skin of the seductress, cloaking herself instead in wide-eyed guile. i mean no bad to you, sahib. only to pay you compliment. 

but she does not approach further, waiting for him to let his guard down. . .or keep up the facade.