Blackfoot Forest just get no blood on the dope

The cave only sucks them further and further into darkness, their faces hardly becoming intelligible. Especially the beautiful one of the shewolf beside him, her fur being so pitch black that he can hardly register the soft plains of her face as she smiles to him. He even offers his own soft laugh at her comment of Akitas and dogs. “Oh just wait until you see me in action, dear.” He hums comically, speaking of battle but also his naturally dirty mind can’t help but suggesting the other way.

Yet, when she asks her next question he shifts his gaze from in front of them over to her own. The barely distinguishable line of her smile has his lips spreading out into his own toothy smirk. He’s almost disappointed she doesn’t take it in the other way. “Yes, my pack is nearby. Not relation, but family nonetheless.” He comments easily, in a charmingly conversational tone. “But you,” he starts. “you are alone much too often, no?” He drifts closer to her, a muscular shoulder brushing her own. His golden eyes glowing even in the low light. “I can be good company. It depends who you are.” He laughs the last sentence. Then he becomes more serious. “Would you hate being whisked away with us?” He wonders aloud. She probably would considering the war they’re in. Or almost war, he’d say. As well as his violent and often chaotic attitude. It usually drives weaker wolves away. Truly sad.