Hoshor Plains silver tooth

roan stepped closer to synder, broad frame casting a shadow over her smaller one, a silent declaration of protection. his eyes swept over the dog, narrowing slightly as he assessed her—lean, built for speed, but unfamiliar.

just don't get in my way.

the words were flat, but not hostile. a warning more than anything. if she slowed them down, he wouldn’t hesitate to leave her behind. still, synder's acceptance earned the stranger some leeway.

his tail flicked once, then he turned back to the path ahead, signaling for them to move. if she could keep up, so be it.