Hoshor Plains grinning

merrick drew up toward the other.
the sound of her voice rushed him; it ruined what he had molded into a careful silence.
for a long moment he said nothing. the bearwolf lowered his haunches to the snow, signalling for now that the time of his teeth was ended. "merrick." his voice was chapped with grief, rust-splattered with anger.
the name of ursus hung upon his tongue, but he said nothing. without the explosion of violence or want between them, he saw the figure for what she was: a strikingly marked, heavily accented wolf, but a wolf beyond doubt.
the scent of her blood hung in the air.
merrick licked the last of it from the ridges of his teeth. "do you often cavort with strangers?"