Ain't no prettier face than a kissed one.

Morgan · January 26, 2019, 11:31 AM

To say he was fully invested in finding a meal was an understatement. Morgan’s whole mind was finding him some grub, right now. So with ears filled with the sounds of him lapping up some water and golden eyes stuck on the rippling shapes in the water, he wasn’t even remotely aware of what was going on around him. All he smelled was water, and coldness.

Eventually his lapping ping becomes normal to the fish, and after a minute of assessing the danger, hungry trout come to inspect the pink flicking thing. Just as one neared, he tried his damndest to keep on a’lickin till it went to peck at the flipping pink of his tongue.

Suckingg the tongue back in, he threw a darker set of vices into the water, and almost missed the meal as his size wasn’t all that quick. But as it took time for the trout to turn away, Morgan got lucky, and snagged it by a meaty tail. Ivories closed over the hefty meal, and he turned to pull it closer to land-

and he smacked faces with another, smaller wolf.

Dropping his meal, he hadn’t had time to figure where it had flopped away to before his hearty ass jumped back. Back hinds felt the sting of winter water and he almost swore much worse than what he usually did. And instead, pulling himself free from the death-trap, a surprised glare landed on the dark girl he almost locked jaws with.

“What’sa matta witchu gur’! You coulda got killed fur sumthin’ like that!” Shaking the bottom half of his ass out, dark brown and creamed flasks of fur stood out like some kinda joke in his majority dry body. “Damn near spooked me shitless. Coulda gave a fella a ‘hello’, firs.”