Otatso Wetlands [m] dans cho

His urge to scout was boundless; and while he knew he would return by day's end to find the Star. Her perfume both allured and haunted him- so while she rested, he sought a bit of oxygen, stretching out his stride as he moved along the riverbanks. He felt a tug in his abdomen when he made his way through the Grove again- only to find it answered and renewed when the scent of another woman came on the breeze. 

Any consideration he had was hasty, and smoothing his tongue over his whiskers hungrily, he set out to find the woman whose scent summoned him now. A new woman- one who smelled of brine and musk. Windsong made him deaf to any thoughts of repercussions. 

Rust and sand were the colours she wore, and her eyes gleamed like forest foliage. He pushed his whiskers forward and approached, ears perked and step light. His waving tail intended to show his interest, though he thought better of crowding her. His herding instincts drew an intensity into his gaze, though his lips remained soft. He uttered a low croon- an offering of himself.