Redhawk Caldera jaguar

Kaizer was content to just listen to her feast, finding a broad satisfaction in the knowledge that he had been the one to provide for her, as promised. But despite his pride, the competitive devil kept his eyes elsewhere, choosing instead to survey their surroundings instead of the guarded female before him. It was easier to tolerate their proximity this way— if he pretended she wasn't truly there; if he ignored the constant crunching, slurping, and gulping as she ate. Only when it all stopped did he finally turn his head, blanketing her with a wary look.

She had been mercurial towards him so far (though the reason for which he couldn't tell) and as a result her unpredictability had made him hyper-aware of her. Her gray eyes— one lighter than the other; cloudy, he might say— seemed to study him more deeply than before, and as she at last drew nearer, he was able to make out more details about her than he had previously. Unkempt and unconcered-looking, she'd been a mother at least once before, and was scarred visibly in several places; the latter observation pegging her immediately as an incautious red wrecking ball.

But these were not things he minded. Kaizer himself didn't look prone to the upkeep of his outward appearance, and he favored the experienced over the naive, since it was in his nature to want his own family one day. Her apparent temerity might prove troublesome, but the male would be nothing if not willing to be challenged. He didn't yet rise to his feet, unwilling to even insinuate any sort of posturing, but he inclined his skull as she came close enough to touch, angling his head to provide her with a good sniff.

His ear twitched reflexively against her cold nose, and when she was satisfied, he carefully sought to return the favor. "Who are you?" he asked quietly, wanting to know more than he needed to.