Hideaway Strath [m] i'm spiraling, i'm sinking down

Charles was high-strung as he finished uncovering the tasty treat hidden in the ground and started to pull it out. He remembered very vividly how Niamh had found him when he had been taking her cache, of all the things he could've picked. He didn't want to be chased out again, or worse — he didn't feel he was a part of this pack long enough to know they wouldn't do the same to him as they had those skeletons at the pack's borders.

When he heard a voice Charles fell backwards, releasing the food he'd been trying to pull out of the cache. With a bewildered look the coywolf turned his head, only to look at an impossibly large man. Perhaps it was because he was on the ground himself, so he quickly scrambled back to his feet, but it was clear on his face that he was intimidated despite the lack of aggression in the man's voice. Charles' tail instinctively ducked between his hind legs and he licked his lips in subconscious submissiveness while he looked at the man. His voice was deep and his face had this mix of attractive dangerousness and daunting handsomeness. Charles knew he was no catch himself. Why does that even matter? he thought wryly to himself.

There was a heavy silence between them for a long time before Charles eventually said, 'm Charles. He finally mustered some of his courage together and lifted his head, forced his tail to hang at a more neutral position, before he said: And you are? His voice was just a little too challenging and sassy, even though it was very clear from his body language that he was still afraid and still displayed the signs of submission such as licking his lips.