Wapun Meadow You sleep rather soundly for a murderer.

She followed him – the canopy of shadows that cloaked them from the woodlands seemed almost fitting, though in the recesses of his mind, even Constantine knew how terrible this could look to anyone who watched them. A dark stranger luring the innocence of a beautiful girl to the woods away from prying eyes? She trusted him wholeheartedly – and despite his best efforts to not fall trap to the wiles of another female in which he felt the need to watch over, he knew it was too late the moment she grappled at the fur on his neck. Her playful growls drew his ears to cup forward, his own jaws parted lightly in playfulness as he took to mouthing at her muzzle again, a crooning growl escaping the dark wolf.

He made to press his flank toward her, his muzzle sweeping upward to nibble at the base of her ear once more before his lips favoured toward her nape once more. “Cad is ainm duit?” He murmured in one of the few languages his father had insisted they learn, his voice softened by the woods and the moment. “Who are you?”