Honeyed Pasture blow high! blow low! and so sailed we

The coyote writhed and squirmed under the woman who, while slender, was still far larger than the creature below her. Kingsley stared down at him, his narrowed gaze catching the frightened coyote's own. Oh, he could see he had fucked up now. He thought he was able to steal from Kingsley and suffer no consequence, thought himself cunning - infallible, even! - but, in the end, he had exchanged his life for a measly meal. When the pirate gave the order to the young woman, he turned to the sky to listen to the almighty snap of his spine, the screeching and yowling of pain as she tore the life from the thieving scoundrel.

Instead, what he heard was a rustle of grass and the sudden pounding of hurried paws against earth. Done. Features blank, Kingsley lowered his muzzle to stare directly at the space before him, now empty save for the dark-furred girl wearing an eager smile. He blinked at her, before turning to, once again, see the quickly disappearing rear end of that god forsaken coyote.

"Aye," he answered slowly, looking back to her. He noticed then the floppy ear, the stark ring of white that encircled her shoulders like a shawl. She was young-looking, though not a yearling like he had first thought. A fair age. He let his eyes trail her long limbs for a moment before redirecting his attention back to her face. She wasn't entirely feminine; had a sort of rougher edge to her than some other women he had met. Fast, though would be easy to overpower. Sinister thoughts crept into his head that Kingsley pushed aside for the time being - though they did not go entirely ignored.

"Been chasing 'im all the way from the coast," he said finally as his features fell into a relaxed, lopsided grin. A front.