Thunder Dome don't blame me

She lingered, and looked upon him with intrigue. Talion met her gaze then, and studied the colour of her lovely eyes for a moment: liquid bronze, the heat of the irises contrasting the frost and pewter of her pelt. She was a lovely thing, pretty but strong, and the boy had been enraptured at once.

Her most attractive quality, however, was that she was pleasant to him. Talion took a step forward, closer to the pallid wolfess, and tentatively reached out his muzzle to test the air around her. She did not smell of the nearby pack lands he'd come across, which led him to believe that she perhaps travelled as he did. "Looking for a pack to join," he told her, rolling a shoulder; "someone told me there had been one just south of here, but it seems to have vacated its territory."

He refrained from telling her that he'd actively avoided all the others until recently, for fear that she'd see him for what he truly was: a coward. Unsure as to why, the peppered yearling felt as though he needed to make an impression before this other loner, that she'd be important to him somehow.