Bramblepoint Make it after all

Stark’s ears swiveled at the low, tentative woof, his body tense as he turned his head only halfway, casting a steady, calculating gaze over his shoulder. His yellow eye fixed on the source of the sound—a smaller figure, light on her paws, her peach-colored fur causing her to stand out amongst the darkness of the wood. She looked cautious, and the faint glint of wariness in her eyes didn’t escape him. Smart, he thought, as a flicker of amusement crossed his face.

"Aren't you a bold one?" His voice was a mix of a cunning tease, it's tone like the hiss of a viper as he turned on his side. The thick crown of fur about his neck puffed upwards in response to his leisurely pose, and he didn't hide the languid ascent his eyes made over her. She was a pretty thing.

He was just the right amount of bored out of his mind to entertain her.

Stark gave a slow nod, a gesture that might’ve seemed begrudgingly welcoming if not for the intensity of his gaze. When he turned his head fully, he gawked upon her with his unsettling stare; one eye a dull, unfeeling yellow, and the other marred from sight. Scarred, his handsome face turned hideous.

The faintest edge of a smirk tugged at his muzzle. "Join me."