Swiftcurrent Creek Indigo

Fire burns in her eyes—perhaps as hot as the sun from the deserts she hailed from. Cloying—Toula’s people clung to her—distinct in their claim and scent—and yet faded just enough that it left doubt in his mind. Even so—the stance of her—the echoing serenity that seems to descend upon her when he poses no threat… or so she imitates.

An ear flickers idly at her words, the ghost of a smirk pressing to the corner of his lips as he considers her words. If she did come from the dark palace, he could only imagine her thoughts in this moment—no great army of guards to flock upon the visitor with great demands.

She was only met with a scarred wolf—physically, yet more so emotionally.

He shifts his weight like a feline—shoulder sliding back as he brushes his cheek across the soft dew of the grass. The peepers continued their peaceful croon—but a cheeky grin became more wicked with amusement. “Did you want me to chase you, sùilean teine?”

He paused—pale eyes intent upon her—the jest fading from his gaze. “Imagine trying to tame rapid waters that are different each time you touch them. We don’t chase others past our claim… Unless they pose a threat.”