Shadewood i. silver thracian thaw (m)

AT times, there was no way to shake the intangible grief of an argument or verbal fight. Like the invisible but unrelenting feeling of restless leg disorder, Niamh was dogged by an itching feeling that made her feel like she needed to writhe and cram herself against anything and everything abrasive that she could find, just to rid herself of the sensation. Unfortunately, of course, the sensation wasn't simply skin-deep, and couldn't be combed simply by running the length of her body along the coarse, scaled trunk of a spruce tree. While she was left with the pleasant scent of wintergreen, and her fur had been teased into place leaving her looking as slick as ever, it did not hide the itching, twitching feeling of some sort of internal, emotional parasite that begged to be squished. 

She left the pack's borders with a decidedly stiff gait, but when she caught sight of a male in the distance, whose coat and scent she did not recognize, she smoothed out her pace and curled her tail tip over her haunches. There was a completely different language used between fights and invitations, and while her energy level was through the roof, she knew how to channel it into a different area. Her heart thrummed as she scanned the new-to-her male up and down, taking note of his handsome, definitive markings and the breadth of his body. He was healthy, that much was easily visible- and tall too, just like her. Everything about his physique passed her assessments, though she continued to allow her honeyed gaze to sweep over him, knowing that even when he caught her looking, he might assume it as both a compliment and an invitation. She intended both. 

She huffed quietly, a playful, half-whispered invitation as she regarded him with eyes glimmering with piqued curiosity. Her tail waved from side to side gently, the tip swaying gently in a delayed reaction with the rest of her tail, to show her relaxed state. And while she knew she was not yet capable of conceiving pups, she knew that her time was nearing as she could feel her body approaching the threshold of its ability to contain the energy brewing inside her. For now, she saw safe- and she needed an outlet, but she also needed a test-run for her own sake. She begged him to forget any wariness he might have with a whimper meant as a playful plea, and lowered her chest in a playbow, to further encourage him and appease whatever nature he might have had.