Black Morass sun

kóvictus’s golden eyes burn as they settle on the smaller wolf before him. she is insignificant in size. the growl that rumbles from his chest is low and unrelenting, filling the space between them like a storm.

my wife sends you to me. he growls, each word slow, heavy, as if carved from stone. his massive paws flex against the damp earth as he steps forward, the ground beneath him shifting under the weight of his presence. his eyes narrow, sweeping over her bowed head, her gaze locked on his paws, her form low to the ground.

tell me why.