Coconut Grove sitting in the back seat smoking a cigarette you thought was gonna be your last

It had been weeks since Tundra had joined Rusalka. Every day her scent grew stronger and stronger, this desolate moors was becoming to feel more like home every day. The woman patrolled the borders as he did, but Rosencrantz did not seek her out immediately. Finding it was time for her to familiarize herself with the rest of the pack and their lands. Figuring having him looming over her shoulder every waking moment of every day might scare her away or have the specter regret the decision to take the knight on his invitation. 

As he wandered the borders, Tundra's scent grew stronger and stronger as he found him approaching her trail, drawing him in with every step as he drank up the space between them until the ghostly woman was in view. As her scent mingled with the salty breeze, the pale coat brushed with the colours of the setting sun, she was the picture of beauty in the peace she had found in the scenery; and greedily, he would approach her to break that moment. 

For weeks he had been patient, and now, as their paths crossed, he thirsts for her companionship. Being a packmate, he had little reason to make up an excuse and instead, found his seat next to her and focused onto the setting sun as she did. For now he wouldn't break the silence and let the crashing wakes in the distance fill the tranquility in its own lullaby.