Nova Peak Savage Daughter

For once, something dead wasn't thrown in Riley's face. He was about to offer giving it to Redd or one of the younger wolves when Masque moved towards him, the slim line of her muzzle angled along his cheek. He supposed digging a den was a natural behavior, but it surprised him she hollowed one out so far from the Rise.

Before he could ask more on that, Masque's teeth gently pressed along the bridge of his nose. He hadn't anticipated play -- particularly not at this hour -- but something about being in proximity to his mate brought a puppyish charm to the wolf. Like Masquerade, there were times Riley repeated the word in his head in disbelief: him, perpetually dysfunctional and solitary wolf -- had somehow found a mate.

A sad part of him wondered how long before she realized he was just like the rest of his family -- dysfunctional and one dimensional. Would she get bored of him, would he somehow let her down? He hoped never to.

Pushing the tide of surprise negativity away, Riley answered by dropping low like one of their first play-battles, a nip aimed at her wrist before he whipped his butt around in a defensive maneuver.