Duck Lake precious and fragile things

Cool water raced down his throat as his rough tongue drew lapfuls of it into his jaws, the iciness a pleasant and welcome feeling. He lifted his skull as a cackle of ravens flew disjointedly from the sky, wheeling around as they settled down the lake's bank and peered at him with beady black eyes. He was tempted to chase the little bastards off, but decided against it as something else drew his attentions.

Dovev turned in the lake water, slowly marching out of it as the wide holes in his nose expanded with the scent of another wolf, and his hairs prickled. He left a wake behind him as he exited the water, his chest facing upwards toward the slope of hills as a stranger melted through the thick, healthy green grass from under the trees. She took a seat, and from his distance he could make out a matching pair of light, green eyes that smoothed into a monotonous coat of charcoal.

Normally, Dovev did not liked to be approached. It made him uneasy that he was the one being stalked upon, and not the other way. Following behavior was one of the many signals a wolf would use to assert itself, and if this female had been planning anything, trailing him would be one of the obvious signs. But she had taken a calm seat, and spoke a greeting. The male had no reason to put on a defensive demeanor, instead to engage this egnimatic female who seemed to carry the darkness of night upon her shoulders. He padded up the pebbly curve of the lake's bank and onto the grass, approaching her slowly. His colorless eyes traced over her frame, from the roundness of her perked ears to the svelte tail wrapped about her toes.
Good evening.