there's a flaw in my design

His eyes followed Scimitar's movements until he had trickled out of his line of sight, and he turned his head in the other direction to catch the large wolf pausing for a drink. His scent itched inside his nostrils, tugging at a thought that took much too long to properly formulate; He would realize belatedly that he had smelled this very same male on Fox the night of his arrival, but whether he'd recognize this before or after they parted ways was yet to be seen.

He remained still, watchful, yellowed eyes grazing the lovely curve of the male's neck where surely his vital pulse lie. If churning water didn't dilute most of the sounds in the area, he probably would have been able to detect it as well. An insatiable hunger stole over him, and the insane wolf took one, predatory step in Scimitar's direction.

But then again he remembered that subjects of Fox were not to be harmed, and the low, red buzzing in his thoughts began to dissipate like a fading haze. He licked his chops decisively, then said hoarsely (without moving further): "know how to get rid of a headache?"