Wapun Meadow You sleep rather soundly for a murderer.

So she was a traveler, or such was what he assumed from her response. Molten eyes swept over her, the stolen kiss she offered only further igniting him as his muzzle buried itself now between her shoulder blades, close to her nape. He inhaled softly, his own rugged form pressing to her, coaxing her to relax against him as he made to sweep her in to his embrace and toward the wooded floor, where he could cradle her form closer to him -- he needed the closeness. The warmth of another. The acceptance.

Swiftcurrent Creek was not a place he was familiar with, but given she was no longer there indicated to him something had happened -- and while he desires to know her more, he was not ready to unleash the demons of his own life. Not until he knew what the ember before him intended.

"You travel alone?" His words were a soft rumble still, the wrath continuing to explore the she-wolf's nape and ears with preening teeth.