Chimera Fields oh, fortune fortune

Even though she notices him, it doesn’t seem she really has. A moment passes as she lazily makes eye contact with him before she stumbles out a quite oh. Her footing doesn’t seem to be too sure either as she closes the gap between them. It is only a few seconds that Surma remains where he stands but the burning inside him urges him forward. Something isn’t quite right with the girl but he can’t yet put two and two together. She seems well fed enough, taken care of by herself or that of a pack—her scent mingles with others, he can tell—and she’s taken by surprise in his presence but her slow reaction sends a shiver down his spine.
 
“Oh?” he inquires, though it hardly seems a question. His ears swivel forward and his darkened orange eyes alight once he closes the rest of the distance between them, quick to finish what she has started. There’s a fleeting remnant in the back of his mind, a flash of a dark woman in the distance, but he quickly sheds the grasp for a light ahead of him.
 
With a sickly crawl of his lips, he flashes his teeth in her direction and when he’s close enough to touch her—the space behind her ear—his expression disappears and he closes his eyes. The strong inhale expands his chest, a nibble of the fur she keeps in soft locks, followed by a steady release as he dances back a few steps and around, circling (questionably) playfully forward.