Ankyra Sound hold our skin over the light to hold the heat

Her gaze locked onto him with such intensity that his smile faltered, and he instinctively looked away. The last thing he wanted was for her to fear him—he was no brute, least of all toward women. And yet, the sharp edge in her voice made it painfully clear that his presence unsettled her...and he had possibly offended her.

“Not at all, the fault is mine—I was just caught up in a silly thought,” he admitted, offering a slight shrug. “Wolves made from the ocean. I imagine all that tumbling through the waves would leave them terribly dizzy.” He huffed a quiet laugh, though the humor felt thinner spoken aloud than it had in his mind.

His eyes raked over her, careful to not linger too long in any areas, checking for any injuries. She appeared well, nothing apparently visible, but fur hides minor injuries well. He would know, his own neck itching with old memories.

“Are you well? I haven’t scented others around; are you alone?” He sat back on his haunches, regarding her softly as he awaited her reply.