Blackfeather Woods she's the giggle at a funeral

Slowly, she slithered her away around the tree and towards where he stood. 

Posture somewhat submissive, the other approached, occasionally flaring her breath towards him. But he was not sure of her intentions. He did not mind friendly closeness, but until he was sure this was all she cared for, he would not allow her touch.

Jutting his skull sideways, he nipped at the air, teeth dangerously close to her face and often her ears. 

His body remained firm and well with posture, but his head strained sideways, lips still pulled back and gaze offering that same warning — keep your distance. For now, at least.