time goes slowly when you're only waiting til the sun turns black

The respite was short-lived -- Caiaphas' cherished isolation was interrupted by the approach of another wolf. Haughtily the unappreciative wretch huffed to announce both her presence and her disdain -- as if stating she had been here first and had earned the right to enjoy the view in solitude.

He had, thus far, been blissfully unaware of her presence and this brought an ugly smirk to her muzzle. It meant had she been hostile she could have overtaken him -- and it also meant, to some extent, that the bland and monotonous colored scullion was well masked by the erupted slate that stood beside her. She studied his coloring -- to an extent it reminded her deeply of Suttree -- handsome shades of layered russet tapered off by unremitting and swallowing black. But this wolf was not Suttree -- and Caiaphas, prickly as ever, watched him coldly and kept her distance.