Swiftcurrent Creek dogs howling at the moon

Edit: Forgot to say: faded. :)

He had hoped she’d yawned, but he hadn’t anticipated the response she gave in contrast to the barefaced ego he’d witnessed first-hand. He found he grudgingly liked the awareness of it and decided that it was possible he had been right the first time when he had considered her on the border: she was interesting. The assessment would either dissolve or fortify, but until it reached one of those two outcomes it was likely to waver to and fro with his flighty moods. That she would surpass his wildest expectations whenever he cared to scrutinize her mind or skill was out of the question, but she didn’t need to. All that really stood to be proven was whether or not she kept him coming back for more and whether or not she complemented him. The examination was mutual.

He smoothly side-stepped with a gaze that slowly released itself from her features and his nose brushed against the stray tufts of grass along the otherwise barren patch of earth on which they stood. His avid sense of smell effortlessly picked up a vast array of possibilities, but none of them were quite satisfying when he’d been hunting teeny-tiny game since he’d arrived. Show me your skill and I’ll show you mine, he offered challengingly with gleaming eyes that drifted inevitably back to the fiery female and a double-entendre that was fully intended.

With that he set off at a lope, awaiting the flash of bright red at his tawny side and willing to be led by one who knew her territory better than he did.