Duck Lake prettiest girl in the whole damn holler

it was not quite sunset when the eyjolfur felt his solitude broken. glancing upwards, he caught the silhouette of a wolf. instinctively the brute braced, for his first thought was it might have been constantine come to cut him down for insolently dancing so close to his claim. 

the figure revealed itself to be ruenna; thorn relaxed his tensed shoulders, stretching his paws as he recognized the woman. it occurred to thorn, perhaps belatedly, that he might have chosen too high a goal —for as lofty as aria’s beauty was, there were many virtues about the reserved woman before him that thorn had overlooked. 

how so so very like a man, to crusade for love when it possibly existed right under his nose. 

before he could oblige ruenna with much in the way of an answer, the very woman he had come calling for appeared. a surge of adrenaline buzzed in his blood as he beheld her — and stilling the uproar of his pumping heart, the eyjolfur rose. 

he pushed the bird towards the two of them — and then, as if a shadow spooked, began to lope away.