Sequoia Coast born into cruelty and crooked form

It did not take long for Raleska's intrusion to be noted; the swarthy beast pulled away from his rumination of the sea, ravenfeather hackles lifted and an earthy rumble sounding from the cavity within his deep chest. Raleska blinked once, retracting the intensity of her gaze and shifting it upwards -- from his proud ears down to the noble configuration of his muzzle to the perennial semblance of distaste that seemed permanently etched to his figure. He was larger than she -- swarthier too -- but all the same, she did not like his growl any more than he appreciated the prying of her eyes.

Her tail stiffened, but Raleska did not move. Now that she was spotted, she would own her station as peeping-tom -- she was loathe to turn her back upon him, but nothing about her (or him) invited pleasant discourse either.