Coconut Grove Wash him deep where the tides are turning

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He set his nose where he was allowed, starting at the hitch where her neck met its shoulders, and stopping where he buried his nose briefly at her hip. He noticed her tail was darker than the rest of her, but forgot it almost immediately, deeming it unimportant. She smelled healthy enough, and was of child-bearing age, which made her in the very least useful to the stone mason, who wanted what most men of conquest wanted: to sire sons. He wondered if she had some fight in her...

Relinquishing her from his overly tactile attentions, his eyes rolled to the pale figure that had become slightly smaller since the first time he had made her out in his peripheral. His ear flicked towards Tytonidae as she called out to the shy creature, shaking his head when it was asked if he knew her. “I think not,” he mused, tail wiggling in small invitation for the other, despite the fact that this motion seemed to be at odds with his natural cloy of intimidation. Though he might have liked to know the blanched wolf, he did not think she would linger with them both.

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