Swiftcurrent Creek I ain't happy; I'm feeling glad.

Permission granted to PP Mazatl

His eyes harden at the pale astuteness of the Arctic wolf, watching every emotion that flickered through his face. Behind him he could feel Mazatl, his baietel, curling up against him, hunkering away from the larger white wolf. He resists the urge to turn his back on the wolf and comfort him, focusing on the eventual relaxing of the pale wolf's muscles. Once he feels safe, the strigoi wraps his body around Mazatl as best he could, placing his chin on top of the brown, deer-like wolf's head, amethyst eyes narrowed at the other hunter.

I was already planning on moving him there, He gently licks Mazatl's fur absentmindedly between sentences. We were detouring to hunt when you barged in, He adds a gentle snarl to the end of his words, further emphasizing his distrust of the other male. His ears perked slightly at the male's words, and he inclines his head towards him. Winter is already here, He states plainly.