Whitefish River It's a beautiful and a burning thing

don't worry about it!

Flashing his sharp gold-orange gaze upwards, the ashen brute caught sight of the female before she managed to open her mouth in greeting. He blinked at her solemnly for a few moments, regarding her with a quiet stoicism that bordered on being eerie. When her words fell against his lengthy ears, he flicked them backwards so that they flattened on his skull. Still drenched in water, Kierkegaard padded towards the shore with several sloshing steps and huffed quietly from his nose. Her tone seemed cheerful enough, which caused the ashen male to assume that she would easily be deterred by him. Most pleasant creatures did not spend a great deal of time around the Sairensu male. Drawing his salmon-colored tongue across his lips and nose, the large male nodded his head to the female with a surly face. “Hello,” he rumbled in response. His voice was emitted like a low growl. Distant thunder that took a fraction of a second to hover in his chest before being issued from his muzzle.