Panther Park look at me boy cause I got you where i want you isn't it so exciting

she looks in his direction when his low chuff breaks the quietness that has settled, previously and briefly disrupted only by the soft rasp of her tongue through her fur as she groomed herself. he's interrupted her grooming time, catching her mid-lick and he watches as she stretches languidly like a cat upon her perch. he presumes the art of grooming one's self is linked to vanity — it is certainly what drives him to keep his fur as clean and groomed but that's an unfair assumption to make and he knows better. not everyone's vain like him.

"join you?" wintersbane repeats with an inquiry that carries subtle amusement. a soft chuckle builds and rumbles within his chest. "join you in what? you seem to have grooming down rather well." the tundrian teases her with a soft, amused sneer and though he gives her a hard time he takes a step out of the shadows and into her small clearing, though he still leaves plenty of personal space between them. it's out of habit, really. wintersbane never trusts anyone he just meets ...the exception to that rule of thumb appearing to be cubs.