Kintla Flatlands Savage garden

His shoulders hunched, the large brute's face angled to have one glimmering orb to challenge her own widened cerulean ones. His ebony fur was tousled in the wind, further proving his daredevil approach to something that could endanger his health. Ivev could only guess that this male's strategy to opposing her words was also how he organized his life. Structured chaos.

The thought of getting the carrots out of his mouth no longer burned in the snowy canine's agenda. The lithe, muscular stranger who had originally captured Ivev's attention had his now focused on the dreamer's, who seemed to relax as he growled.
Harmful? How?
The she-wolf glanced at the mangled carrot that had fallen from his jaws. It had a light, coral center that slowly turned to the darker pinkish orange of the skin. There's a reason why we wait for the leaves on a tree to turn green before we declare the arrival of spring. It was true- buds on a tree during winter didn't always mean the snow was gone. A late season blizzard could destroy all inkling of spring, and so one must wait before announcing the end of the cold.
She flicked her ears at the roots laying at his paws.
Carrots aren't ready till the true cold of fall.