Greatwater Lake Will you take my life? [M]

With his sour mood still intact, Alduin drives on, hanging his head low and raising it high to see what scents he can catch on the wind or ground. Nothing of interest, but even if he did smell Thyme, would he smell the same? Probably not. His brain is not doing a good job at cheering him up and better yet the damned ghost doesn’t help either. Walking next to him with the occasional snarky quip. 

A You’re probably not going to find him… or a You done searching for your childhood love yet? It gets on his nerves. The bastard thinks he’s so funny too and it only makes Alduin roll his eyes and growl at him to shut it, but he never listens. Quite a shame really. Maybe if the demon didn’t ask him to do such heinous things and annoy the fuck out of him they might just be able to coexist peacefully. He knows how to push his buttons though. 

Still, even if he doesn’t find Thyme, he definitely finds someone. Or rather they find him because a stranger is stepping into his path just ahead of him. A smaller grey and red coyote looking thing. Alduin’s eyes narrow when he looks upon them. Nothing about them scream a boiling fight, but it doesn’t stop the hellhound from preparing anyways. Just because the other doesn’t want to fight doesn’t mean Alduin doesn’t. He could definitely use one right now too, especially with his pissed off he’s been feeling. 

The males ears are pressed low to his skull and his tail is tucked neatly between his legs. The visual signs of submissive only calms him some, but why do they step in his way so brazenly? What do they want?

So Alduin would lift his head some. His eyes, still narrowed, regard him with a calculating and questioning wildness. One side of his maw lifts in a silent sneer.

“What? Want to become a snack, coy?” He asks in that rasping tone of his. Attitude evident and obvious in the deep rumble of his voice.