Ravensblood Forest the long rain

 
The pitch-cloaked monster had no way of knowing what about him had drawn the ashen woman to his side in that moment. Her past was entirely a private ordeal that did not pertain to who he was as a person. Still, he was curious to know how she could feel so calm at his side. A comparison could easily be made for Skellige and the wolf of her past. He too was driven solely on carnal instinct. The desires that sprouted up inside of his gut like a wild fire; all he could do was add kindle to that flame. It kept him alive.
 
When she cleverly spoke of their distance from the ocean waves, the dark brute turned sharply to her and his eyes locked tightly with her own. He did not waver, but instead held the sight while his mind churned in hopes of creating a response. He was not the type to share the past he had endured. This woman was a stranger to him. Their only common ground was the shelter that they had sought together. Were he to unleash the culture of the Warsaw wolves and the islands that he had called home… to share his banishment with her – it would be too much. And the wraith was not one to share openly.
 
“I have something to prove,” he answered instead with short words and a cold frown. “But you are wrong… the land owns all of us,” he continued, leering at her with wild russet optics. “Just look at your frame and the jut of your bones against your flesh.” His words slithered from his lips like a serpent. The famine had taken a tight hold on the lives of the wolves in the Teekon Wilds. No-one was an exception to this rule. “You are a slave to the land you live on just as I.” He was not haughty about belonging to the sea. The great swell of the ocean waves was a beautiful master, and a dangerous one. She had crafted him into a force to be reckoned with.