Duck Lake montefitu

coväh did not move much. not at first.
only the shift of an ear. the lazy flare of his nostrils as he sucked in the morning air, tasting it for strangers. smelled her. sharp, tight scent of a woman trying not to be seen. trying not to stay.
his eyes peeled open, two slits of gold, blinking against the dawn.
then he saw her. stiff thing. ears back, ready to flee like some spooked hare. coväh grinned, slow and crooked, all teeth flashing white against his dark muzzle. he rolled with exaggerated laziness onto his side, a paw flopped over his ribs.
haah, a long, dramatic breath. why you look like ghost see you?
he stretched, long and loud, jaws cracking open with a yawn that showed every tooth. peace, peace. i no eat you. a wink followed, if she caught it, if she dared look long enough. too small. too... bony.
then, with a grunt, he flopped back onto his back. you make big noise. ruin dream. now i awake. hmph.
a pause, his gaze flicking to the sky, and then back to her, as if she’d been the sun itself creeping up over the lake.