Bearclaw Valley had wild dreams walkin' the streets

While the season clung stubbornly to the dismal palette of winter, a shift had occurred over the past day or so that had driven Æsilfír to abandon her post where she guarded Abel most hours. A carnal hunger awakened and sent her looking for something to date her cravings. 

A voice called out from the borders not far away, causing her to bristle and snarl. A male. The impulsive, wild creature within her altered her course and she set off to see who it was who had so boldly announced himself. She wanted to tempt him- seduce him to push his boundaries- and then tear him limb from limb.

But the game would become more nuanced, more interesting when she realized Merrick’s footsteps led in that direction. She followed his steps, lilac eyes glinting. Perhaps they could make a game of it; tempt and taunt the newcomer. And she deeply desired to see how Merrill might look upon her now too, that her desire was tangible. 

She stalked to his side, tail lashing. She approached on his sighted side so that he could see both her and the stranger in the dull, orange orb. She said nothing; a silent, still pawn set on seeing just how much chaos she could stir up.