Alpine Lake Walk a tightrope on a razor's edge.

The words of another, distinctly female, spoken on a tongue foreign to him, caused a pallid lobe to splay sideward. He'd probably have ignored her if he'd been able to tell that the voice belonged to a coyote, but it was a bachelor's curiosity that drove him to point his muzzle toward her in quiet acknowledgement.

The frown and furrowing of his brow spoke volumes: he was not thrilled to see the creature.

Viinturuth's sterling guard hairs pricked, lifting across his nape and shoulders and along the length of his spine. He stared with a fierce hatred for her, for her species as a whole, and the curl up his upper lip warned her to keep her distance.