Sleepy Fox Hollow mental cabaret

she was a bold puzzle - lean and sturdy on oddly socked paws - one that appeared simple and inviting, but like looking at a chinese finger trap, he felt the need to be wary of her regardless. the wolf sniffed along her shoulder first, careful to give himself just enough room to evade a bite to the face should she turn wicked; then he trailed his long muzzle along her sleek, panther-black spine until he came to the base of her tail to give her an investigative sniff.

quite a healthy bitch, he thought, and with a stunning temperament. "my lady cyclone," the warwolf addressed her, standing back and presenting himself in a stag's pose to allow her the same examinations of him. "i would have you join me in the mountains," he announced without reserve.