Northstar Vale Yestertempest

He responded to the sound she’d made to announce her presence much in the way Calliope had thought he would: teeth flashing, fur rigged along his spine, his single eye flashing with malice. She skirted to the side as he whirled to face her, bright eyes gleaming as they studied his aggressive features while her expression remained decidedly neutral.
 
The girlish crush she’d developed for him long ago had been a juvenile appreciation for his warlike strength and fearlessness he embodied. That was long ago, when Calliope had been a teen. She hadn’t pined for him when he’d left – such was not Calliope’s nature – but being in his company once more stirred up a long-forgotten veneration, one that was colored with a keenness her ascent into womanhood had created.
 
“Why,” was her simple, flat response to his quiet demand. His hostile stance had deflated, but his face remained as hardened as ever. Calliope’s tail began to sway in slow circuits against her heels and she shifted sideways to remove herself from his blind spot so that he may view her without hindrance or threat.