King Elk Forest tamarack pines

the she-wolf seemed to regard him with amusement over anything else. the wildcat of a wolf did not look at her with any expression that would have suggested his capabilities. it seemed as though he had been born of the wild things and they had instructed him to make his way to where she was without reason. that was the way of the world, he had come to realize. logic and rationality did well enough in the mind of the right beast, but tusk was composed of things that made very little sense. he did not bat a lash at the loss of one close to him, or rear his head back in fearful pride when insulted. the razorback fiend had found a way to allow his actions to speak for him, and it had carried him a great distance. the great stretches of land and sky were his playthings, and he had no intention of reigning in the insistent manner that he traversed them. for all there was, tusk knew that he would not see everything – he didn't care for such lofty attempts. the savage only wished to bound across what he could.

the first words were spoken by the dark woman of the woods. her tone was laced with the same amusement that seemed to crease her features ever so slightly. were he a humorous thing, the cur might have exhaled in a show of appreciation. instead, the dark leather of his lips curled only slightly upward and then halted. “if it suits me,” his rugged tone met her blatantly, honestly, and without fear of what her reaction would be. if she was to inquire of him, he would respond to her in the truest sense. though she was capable in appearance and she held herself with a modicum of pride in her form, tusk did not believe that he wouldn't have been able to pry himself from any danger that met him.