Moonspear champagne

The sound of Dirge was one she had memorized by now. She kept his company, and he hers, a lot, though had avoided most everyone in recent days. Her delightful pestering had been put on pause until now. Hydra slowed, shifting gears up until the point she was at a walk, and then turned to greet him with a waving tail. She still felt the urge to run, but instead moved toward him firstly and attempted to lick-nip his shoulder once it was within reach. 

The Beta female then drew alongside him, offering him her own knavish grin, before she again pushed herself into a run. The scents in the air brought about a newfound energy in her, a slow, kindling burn she had no clue how to work with. Usually when she felt antsy, a good run did the trick—but something prompted her to invite him to chase.