Wheeling Gull Isle roamer

I'm so very happy you didn't resist! <3

The chuff was not what drew his eyes to slide across her slender figure – it was the gentle tease of the wind as it spoke of her presence, and as his fiery eyes shifted over her form with appreciation that he kept to himself, Constantine elicited a low rumble – silent, and yet curious. There had been a certain way the she-wolf before him demanded attention at the meeting, and as she had brazenly coaxed the hint of desire for leadership of the isle wolves, Constantine found himself slightly surprised that she recalled his name. Perhaps he was not entirely forgettable.
 
And he was certainly not displeased.
 
The old Constantine would have cast her a gentle smile – reserved in nature, and one that bespoke caution. This new Constantine, born of the salt waters and of his many losses, was tired of waiting for life to offer him opportunities in which to graciously take. And so as he raked his eyes over her form, he did not make it so subtle that the myriad of gentle colors that played upon her attractive figure intrigued him – and that he found himself quite drawn to him.
 
She wanted to hunt – he was less interested in such things, but the pull of his stomach would deny him other urges for now. His mind drifted once more to the white ghost with silver eyes – eyes that no longer looked upon him with friendship but with confusion.
 
“Yes – Ixchel,” he repeated her own name from his tongue, his voice a low rumble as he began to prowl toward her with purpose. Seeking to close the distance between them, his nose tipping ever so subtly upward to take in her scent. “We can hunt – but then I want to hear of your plans for this place.”