pure sweet violent hearts

The evening air held a pleasant chill, not that he could feel it through his bulk and heavy coat; but there was a breeze, and that roused Riordan from his drowsing down by the water. That and the sound of something breaking the surface. It was a subtle, small sound. Probably just a fish breaching the boundary between the two worlds, or something — which made him jump awake. Fish? Food! The entire point of lingering by this stupid lake was so the young man could feast on a salmon, or... Whatever foreign fish lived within its depths.

He pushed himself to his feet and gave a quick shake to his shoulders, and as he took a few steps, shook his hind end; hopefully nobody would witness this ritual. It was over quickly though. Riordan breathed in the night air and approached the lake's edge, taking his time to slink through the reeds and around the base of the errant tree, here or there. When he came face-to-face with the water, he peered across its unblemished surface for a moment, expecting to witness another eager fish gulping air.[/font][/color]

Instead — and this would send him reeling back in surprise — a wolf's head popped up. Riordan scrambled, substantially put off by the appearance of a strange pale wolf; was it the ghost of a long-dead wolf, rising in the night? Maybe a specter who was annoyed at being found out? Truly, the man was too old for such silly tales; yet, as the stranger dragged themselves out of the water and towards the shore, he couldn't help but be reminded of his family's many legends.

After a moment to compose himself, he decided to face his fears. Riordan slunk not-so-subtly towards the pale wolf, bursting from behind a tree like a child winning at Hide and Seek. A goofy grin quickly set itself upon his round face though, because Riordan realized a moment later — this wasn't a ghost. Just a pretty girl out for a swim. 'You perv,' his mind chided, while his mouth tried to form a simple, "Ah, aye, hello."