Emberwood [m] Disaster falling on me after the sun comes up

stærk catches the scent before he sees her, a tantalizing lure he cannot resist. it cuts through his thoughts, momentarily derailing his purpose, his mission forgotten under the weight of instinct. it has been too long, and he is only a man—flawed, and seeking release from the tension coiled within him.

his steps slow as he nears, the figure coming into view. small, delicate, her frame dwarfed by the snow she works to clear around her den. stærk watches from the cover of the surrounding brush, his golden eye narrowing, a sneer curling his scarred snout.

she is perfect.

so when he leaves, he waits for her to return. fresh kill in tow, she stows away for the night. and only then does he move from where he had settled himself like a mountain lion in wait, and he moves closer, closer.

the faintest rustle of the undergrowth betraying his approach.