Otatso Wetlands wet feet

he answers her with a scoff, followed by a sneer that twists his scarred muzzle. his tail lashes, sweeping against his hocks as he stalks forward, each pawstep a muted thud against the snow-packed ground. muscles ripple beneath his ashen coat, coiled with barely restrained power, his single golden eye gleaming with cold, wet malice as it rakes over her.

with a click of his teeth, a faint tsk escapes him, the sound more dismissive than threatening.

could ask the same of you, he drawls with subtle mockery. he stops just shy of closing the distance fully, head tilting slightly as if to study her with a predator's patience. what was so important it pried you from my queen sister’s side?