Bramblepoint Back beat, the word was on the street that the fire in your heart is out

The male turned to Flaris, and he noted first the slash of black across his handsome countenance that was attempting to mask the red-brown glow of his eyes. At his bidding, the Donnelaith gentleman followed. His steps were light and jaunty, evidently very content to follow the lead of others; even complete strangers. A sharp squealing drew them to the exact spot of the kill, where a large black wolf loomed possessively over the slab of fresh bacon. The bold smear of blood across his mouth went quite nicely with the pair of evergreen eyes above it, and Flaris tucked his ears back in a show of deference for the man's property.

"He's quite right," he mused, coming to stand neatly at the bandit's shoulder. "I fancy myself a great many things, but a thief is not one." Another figure appeared just then, just as dark as the hunter, but with eyes too blue to have changed much since his birth. He was intensely aware now that there were a lot of perceived threats here to the wolf clutching his kill, even if they all seemed to come in peace. "We're all strangers," the earthy wolf told their latest company. "And I fear we're crowding the man with the meal."

Smiling politely, he wiggled the white tip of his tail and shimmied several steps backward.