as peregrine spoke, lasher recalled the brief, hot passion he had experienced with eismitte. he had felt the same lust toward siku, but he had worshipped her body, never touched it. the properties and rules that seemed to govern a formal mateship evaded him, and while he felt a sting of sadness for that which had given his leader hardship, he did not think he would pair himself with another. these thoughts, of course, were left unvoiced; he drank in peregrine's words with a little nod.
i do not like sleeping outside in the snow, but the rain can be cleansing, he mused, longing suddenly for a summer thunderstorm to rack the land. but i also do not wish to be crowded, the man murmured, eyes flashing with amusement. it occurred to him to sidestep caution and press his muzzle against the side of peregrine's proud ruff, veiling the gesture in a show of solidarity rather than one of intimacy, but again, such brazen thoughts were locked away quite swiftly. this was not tartok, and peregrine was neither siku nor eismitte.
no one yet, save for yourself and your daughter. i have been resting and hunting. i am not a social beast, not immediately, though i do look forward to greeting the rest of your wolves. he took several paces in silence, murky eyes pensive. and daringly enough, words slipped from him unbidden, brash, perhaps unwarranted, and holding an obvious undercurrent of suggestion: have you?