Duskfire Glacier Come a little bit closer

he caught her on the wind before he saw her—sharp, familiar, undeniable.
her scent curled through the timberline like smoke, and faust, still cloaked in the hide of their last kill, veered from his patrol. snow broke beneath him as he hunted her not like prey, but like the only thing worth chasing. muscles rolled beneath dark fur as he picked up pace, eyes narrowing.
when he found her, it was with no word. only the low thunder of his stride and the heavy brush of his shoulder against hers—rough, claiming, unapologetic. a sound like a grunt caught in his throat, not quite greeting, not quite warning.
he moved past her, then stopped. waited. looked over his shoulder.
found anything yet? voice low, a rasp carved from cold air and long miles.