Wapun Meadow You sleep rather soundly for a murderer.

She did not balk at him yet – his own nerves frayed lightly as she even welcomed his presence, and boldly pressed closer with her muzzle, an enticing noise escaping her lips. Briefly, the wraith wondered if he had fallen down the rabbit hole – he did not play the Lothario and coax women in such manners – hell, he hadn’t even been able to tell Aria his feelings for her until it was far too late. There was even a twinge of guilt that pressed in his gut as he shifted his muzzle further, exploring the crevice of her ear to the base of her skull – as if he was dishonouring Aria. But how could he be, when she didn’t even know who he was?
 
A rumble escaped him then, the swarthy wolf pressing himself closer, continuing to see just where the stranger would draw the line – but his fiery eyes continued to sweep over her, and as his teeth would long to continue the trail of exploration from the base of her ear to the back of her nape to her spine, he pulled away, seering, reigning himself in. The Mayfair had become many things over the past few months – but he would not disgrace such a delicate creature.
 
Instead he shifted then, his nose pressing back to an innocence as he nudged her cheek again, mouthing playfully to her muzzle as his tail shifted to a more playful whip. He was not ready to break the silence with words yet – not when actions spoke so much louder.