Big Salmon Lake hoax

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— her scent. warm pine, trampled bloom. it wraps around him, draws tight, and ridgeback feels his throat hitch with the barest stir of tension.

a remarkable woman.

hell of a welcome, a gravelling, cocky smirk. hips swaying with a swagger as he approaches. what do you offer the ones who actually ask for help?

her touch isn’t rushed. and he doesn’t move away—he leans in, just slightly. lets her groom the dirt and blood from the red stripe that earned him his name. she uncovers it like it’s something sacred. he watches the reflection of them in the water, still save for the ripples they make.

name’s ridgeback, he says finally, voice quiet now. eyes cutting to her sidelong. y’got one, or do i just call you beautiful?