Rising Sun Valley Acorn

She gained ground, just enough to convince herself that she’d shocked him with her approach. She continued forward when he stiffened and balanced himself, his chin lowering. She remembered what wolf’s blood tasted like- but she did not thirst for it, not when her curiosity was much more appetizing.

She weathered his growl and approached, whiskers pushed forward as she sniffed the air. She avoided direct eye contact, but sized him up. Like two battleships, they remained defensive of their position. 

He smelled of a pack, and of other wolves. She remembered the warning given by the men who wandered in search of an attacker, but this wolf did not meet the description. She wasn’t familiar with his pack’s scent- but to her knowledge, they weren’t exactly at war with any other packs, either. 

She snorted and shook her shoulders to ease some of the tension.