Little Goat Mountain [m] eyetooth

A sardonic salute given promptly by the pale warrior as she wasted no time in trimming their meal—a laugh given by the man before he surveyed her raptly, noting the glint of dim light upon the curve of her proud figure. An inclination of his muzzle given at the proffered serving, though it went untouched for a moment as the creek wolf boldly pressed his mouth to her cheek with stolen favor.

It was quiet for a moment as they ate.

Until Eivor’s statement broke through dreary air—stirring an arched brow from the scarred Mayfair as an amused gaze traced over her.

He enjoyed her company perhaps more than he should, and found himself distracted as she sprawled out close to him—a proper belch given which stirred his grin to widen. “I’m not sure I can afford you,” he murmured—his own tongue slipping past his lips to unhurriedly clean some of the blood on them.