growth

She seemed to welcome his mischief, and returned her own by commenting how mysterious he appeared. His smirk remained and, when she repeated his name in that sexy accent of hers, he emitted a low rumble of approval. The offering of her own title was given then and, with raven ears pricked forward, he drank deep the sound of her voice. Blanc. He did not know its meaning, but felt that it suited this divine creature perfectly.

Viin eyed the young wolfess curiously as she questioned the origin of his moniker, and he was more that happy to answer. "He was a dragon in stories from my mother's family lore," he said with a roll of a broad shoulder, uncertain if it would impress her or not. He waited to hear what response she might give, before he canted a dark lobe to ask after her own. "And what of yours?"

He enjoyed her company for some time, chatting mindlessly with her until they at last parted ways. Viinturuth watched her go, enjoying the view of her fine haunches until she was out of sight, before he moved in the opposite direction to assume his usual and late patrol of the borders.