Witch's Marsh going on tilt

His heart thrummed within his breast as he spotted her, and she him. He was accosted by a fire of passion, hope, and a sort of happiness he had not experienced in sometime. Gone, however momentarily, was his rage and agitation. He ran to her, yipping and tail wagging, and perhaps to her appearing no different than the wolf she had saw last; but a closer look would reveal his withering form that quietly spoke of bad times, and perhaps she would perceive the oddities in his manners as he approached.

"Saena!" Shouted Luke as he frolicked toward her, skipping aside and circling around in playful bounces. He was certain that this was it, the turning point in his shaken life. He brushed against her, his snout meeting her neck in a fervent nuzzle as he whined and whimpered in exceptional excitement. "Saena, Saena, Saena...." he murmured, breathing her scent and pressing close. He was so fixated on the irrational, foolish idea in his head that he did not capture the change in her scent.

He hardly gave her a moment to process his torrid greeting before springing his plan, his hope, on her.

"Come away with me," he breathed, reaching to lick her muzzle.