Shadowwyn Moor its the soul that needs the surgery

Even her laugh was beautiful – how had he stumbled upon her? Why was she alone?
 
The question remained unanswered for now, and Scimitar was pulled in to a bout of play. His teeth managed to gently nip at her ear, and such actions usually held a consequence. His wolfish brows lifted, daring her to do something about it, and she did.
 
Her leap would bring her body to tackle in to him with a surprisingly hefty force given how slight she was in comparison to him, and her nip brought on the age old game of tag. No sooner was her warmth and fur touching his and stirring a flame in his chest did she bounce away, leaving him unfulfilled.
 
A roguish grin crept to his features and he bounded off after her – slower, given his height and weight, but certainly determined to catch that beautiful creature in to his arms.