Larksong Grotto sleeping dog beside you

Sivaak’s breath curled faintly in the warming air as she lingered in the shadows, her crimson eyes narrowing at the snowwoman’s words. So, the woman had sharp senses after all. The faintest curl tugged at Sivaak’s lip, revealing the glint of a tooth, but she did not step forward. Not yet.

The smaller wolf stood with a grace that Sivaak could not help but admire, her lithe frame poised and alert. For a moment, she did nothing, letting the tension grow thick between them. She watched the snowwoman’s dawn-colored eyes search the trees, watched the way her claws sank into the earth as though she were bracing for an attack. Good. Sivaak liked her this way—still, strong.

Then, at last, she moved.

Sivaak emerged slowly from the cover of the trees. “You know I am here,” Sivaak growled, her voice low and rough, crackling like ice breaking beneath a heavy paw. “But you stay. You do not run.”

Her head tilted slightly, a predator’s curiosity flickering in her expression as her gaze traced the smaller wolf’s stance. “That is good. Running show fear. Fear make Sivaak hungry.” Her voice tasted sick upon her own tongue as it clawed out from her mouth to run the length of her mauled muzzle.

"Sivaak not want to eat you. Do not fear Sivaak."