Black Morass glowbell [m]

Kynareth’s been patrolling, despite his new potatoes to care for. He has to continue to do his job as an alpha of the Saints. His pack is swelling with the abundance of new pups being brought into this world and he finds pride making itself known as he puffs his chest out.

Today, he goes on a regular patrol as usual. Moving into the swamplands of his mountains. He owns this whole place and he’d be damned if he let a single soul that’s not in his pack past these mountainous borders. So, it’s a surprise to him when he’s able to catch a whiff of another’s scent and he stops dead in his tracks. He can tell it’s female by its unique musk, but what has him concerned is how they got past the rest of the pack. These walls are impenetrable and there is no other entrance besides the one at the northern part of the Strath. It makes his fur bristle with irritation and he feels his upper lip twitch as he trudges on towards this unfamiliar wolf.

His head is hung even with his broad shoulders as he follows it. His circular brows are furrowed and he’s got a stern expression set on his handsome face as he moves in a fast walk. With all of the pups being born, he finds himself more aggressive to protect not only his own, but Arlette and Derg’s too. 

That’s when he sees her — a stark contrast against the mossy, wet, earth colored background. A woman of bright blondes and and vibrant orange. He watches her for a moment, moving about the swamp. Then he moves in, hardly making himself scarce. Rather he makes sure she notices him. His imposing form is large, muscles shift beneath an impressive coat as he moves towards her.

He lifts his head some, puffs out his chest in a dominant manner. Her beauty makes some of his anger and resentment to a stranger in his grounds lessen. A smile crosses his maw and his eyes brighten only a tad. 

“And who might you be, miss?” His deep voice drawls smoothly to her. Hopefully he would coax an answer from her sooner rather than later.