Wheeling Gull Isle bats full of shame

vesper tensed as the stranger began a stiff-legged march across the bridge, muscles preparing for a spar if it came to that. dark lips peeled back to reveal a hint of their teeth, mistaking the male's narrowed eyes for deepening aggression. but he paused, then his eyes widened and his demeanor completely changed. vesper rose to their feet slowly, head slightly lowered to signal a truce; but they did not relax their tense muscles, expression shifting to one of wary neutrality.

wolverines? vesper asked, concerned about his state of mind— not realizing that they were mirroring their first impressions of him that day from so long ago. the darkling lifted their snout, then, watching him cautiously as they worked to decode his scent. whoever the stranger was, he wasn't alone. the scent of another female's heat was an undercurrent of his own fertile scent, and vesper took a subconscious step back, aware of their own fragrant signals and hating it.

they probably would remember him, if vesper took a moment to search for the memory. but they were now too aware and self-conscious of their first heat. being so close to males like this could be dangerous. perhaps this time, vesper was the stupid one.