Swiftcurrent Creek lately i found myself thinking, been dreaming about you a lot

The shadowrunner paced the length of the borders, pausing every so often only to leave a marking of his claim, given he seemed to have to remind the stray that had been snooping along their borders as of late. The muscles of his form coiled with the tension he felt in the air—it was palpable, between he and Durnehviir, he and Aria, and of course, the interloper. The she-wolves of the Creek were proving to be quite fertile—ripe, even, and the Mayfair’s nose burned with the temptation and agitation of it all. It was no wonder the dark stranger was skulking in the shadows.

Aria had gone from pressing along the shadows, hoping to not be noticed to practically stomping her way through their home. One ear flickered back at the sound of her approach, and as he glanced over his shoulder to look upon her, he was met with white rage—an ember burned dangerously close to the point of no return.

Stilling, the Mayfair lifted himself to full height, his tail giving a lashing sway through the air as he studied her, watching her close the distance between them.