Blackfoot Forest just get no blood on the dope

Akita. It sounded like another canine lineage entirely. Zsuzsa came from a land of pure-bred wolves through and through. The only mention of dog was a slur to her growing up, amongst the disorderly males. He complimented her long, lithe figure. The Mackenzie was taller than most but cared little to highlight her gifted aesthetic. ”And you’re big for a part dog.” She retorted, saying it in a way that was just as speculative with a small smile invisible in the dark. A dog to her was imperfect, a mongrel. He definitely didn’t fit that description and was clearly an outlier. ”How did the conception of you even come to be?” She thought wolf and dog together as unusual and didn’t think the dog would last long against the feral nature of the wolf. She was all of a sudden compelled to learn more about this dogwolf (or wolfdog... she wasn't sure which version to use).
 
Feeling the suggestive sweep of his yellow gaze over her figure, the subtle gesture left her unmoved. Admiration from afar wasn’t a crime in her book unless it was contact unwanted. She would allow him to gaze upon her with an interested gleam if he so wished, for it was not in her authority to command how a male would act upon his carnality. He's definitely more doggish. Male wolves were more courtly about such things. She saw the obviousness in him but it didn't bother her like it would other females.

If anything, she let her own gaze linger upon his build, intrigued in his different anatomy. The throbbing sting of her broken nail brought her back to her own body. ”I have no kill here, for the record.” Zsuzsa mentioned matter of factly, having a sense he was drawn to her by her blood. The shadows of the cave hid the reality of how spindly she was, which probably added an additional illusion to her height.