Dawnlark Plains don't call [m]e grimgram

The shewolf let out a scolding snarl as the male nipped at her leg, though the heat in her eyes was not lent from anger. It pleased her, more than anything, that he could catch her at all. More than that, she'd learned all she needed to know about the male to deem him a suitable partner. She was done with the game, though she did put up a few half-hearted attempts at escape, as she enjoyed the sport of being caught as much as the male counterparts in these games seemed to enjoy doing the catching.

Finally, though, she simply 'tripped' into the grass, and arranged herself quickly into pleasing sprawl, one leg tucked under her as though readying herself to spring up once more. But she had no intention of continuing to evade the Ramskull, and this was probably conveyed in the sparkle of her eyes as she turned her head back to stare at him, tongue lolling gaily from her maw.