From One to Another

As silent as the breath of a stalking panther, the dark king watched greyscale female from his perch in the shadows. He had been on his way to the river himself, another attempt of filling a cache with delicious fish, yet he was cut short by a femme who used it for washing purposes.
Delightful. More company.

After the mumbling commenced from her mouth, he kept his volcanic irises directly on her, the vibrant and violent toil of the gold and fiery orange stirring luminously in the shadows.

Was this a loner? She seemed to be cleaning cuts, and the brute wondered if his comrade MoonBane was the one to deal them.
Probably not. After all, she was still alive.
Better go play, Slade.

So he did.
"Hello, there miss," his deep baritones slid their melody to her.
Leaping down from the hill he was once on, he made his way regally toward the female.