Snowforest Taiga maugak ⋟

kanuux did not turn when her breath touched his spine.
he had known she was waking— the shift of her weight in the reeds, the faint grind of frost loosening from her pelt. her scent moved toward him before her body did: cold, iron-edged, the deep-night musk of a woman carved from storms.

he did not greet her with sound.
instead, his shoulders rolled once, a dominance cue softened only by the fact that he did not bare his teeth. he let her know he was aware— that he had allowed her close.

when she reached his back, he angled his head just enough that one icy eye caught her in its corner. a warning, a recognition, and a challenge, all in one breath.

his tail did not lift, but it did not lower. neutral ground— rare for a man like him.

kanuux exhaled, a heavy plume into the morning cold.
then he pressed his brow briefly against her shoulder, a touch that held strength rather than affection. claiming nothing, yielding nothing.

after, he stepped aside so she could stand beside him instead of behind.