Haunted Wood Here Am I

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As he watches the shadows shift and stir, his eyes begin to adjust to the male's outline; a masculine black wolf, fur nearly as deep as the cave's black night itself. A smile, fearless and full of deceitful wile, pulls itself across his mouth. His lips peel back in a glorious show of overused teeth as he meets the dark gaze of his would-be quarry.

Trouble? he repeated airily, his tone markedly more innocent than his predatory appearance would suggest. Still, he didn't seem alarmed by the accusation— it didn't seem to affect him at all— and he maintained a stance of neutral indifference, even as his counterpart seemed to stiffen in ready defensiveness. Does thou believe that all who comes along thy path bears ill to thy wellbeing?

His eloquence only half-remained, most of it having trickled away over the years he'd spent away from the place of his birth; and yet no breed of word would ever quite be able to distract one from the glaring evidence that Grievous was nothing if not dangerous.

I seek companionship, nothing more.

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