Lone Star Mountain combustion

Once Lemongrass had righted herself, she realized that the other wolf wouldn't be stealing her food. She'd never seen another wolf as black as this one, and she curiously started tailing them. She kept her stomach close to the ground, peeking over the top of the snow at the dark figure in the distance. She crawled closer and closer to the other, her eyes scanning the other's body. This wolf was muscular; Lemongrass could tell even from this distance. This was a wild wolf, a real wild wolf! She'd never dared to believe that she would ever see one up close.

Lemongrass's own body was in peak condition, but in a soft way, in a way that gave away her controlled upbringing. She'd never had to run after elk, hunt down big game, or any game at all. Her exercise was on a treadmill with a oxygen mask to her muzzle to measure her breathing. Her chasing after rabbits had hardened her body a bit, but she was still an overgrown puppy on the inside, and she wanted the company of this larger, stronger creature. She kept trailing them as sneakily as she could, which wasn't very sneakily.