Hushed Willows a world apart; a dream

vrána’s presence above very much forgotten, caw’s play-growl comes uninterrupted as they wrestle each other for a long few moments. he scrapes his teeth over skin but is careful not to draw any blood. blood is for hunting and offering. for now he is just having fun!

caw has missed his family a little. his lessons, his siblings, his pack. but this is what he would do back in the valley. it feels good now, to be in the faerie court with his new friends, even if they are not exactly what the stories taught him to expect of faeries! and even if there are things he must protect the court from.

he is content to mouth aimlessly at kincaid’s muzzle, his own jaws more often free than not, but he goes willingly when paws press aimlessly into his face and throat. that is part of the game! he also does not stop the larger wolf from gripping his own muzzle in turn, but after another short span of wrestling he is too eager to stay still.

pulling free, caw prances in a tight circle and then bows down, crimson eyes locked directly on kincaid’s, forelimbs stretched over the flowers and tail arced high over his back in the universal signal for chase.