Barrow Fields going to california with an achin' in my heart

It was starting to become clear to Shale that the girl was attracted to him, a feeling that extended the other way as well. He matched her gaze as she spoke, giving him, at last, a name. . .Samaantine. Cool and crisp, elegant but also sharp, a deadly razor. Icy on his tongue.

"Well, Samaantine Messeda," he said gently, "I don't suppose I can turn you down." His stomach gurgled, the sound quiet but ominous, as if goading him on further. His mouth broke into an open grin. "You might think you're in danger of being eaten, but the big game doesn't have a taste for sweet things, honey," Shale responded, for once glib. "Take my word for it."

The silver male lifted his head, tasting the air. They would do well heading toward the base of the mountains; out here on the plains, it was devoid of small life, but the tinier creatures liked to hide in the nooks and crannies of the rocks and trees. They would find their prize there. . .unless she was up for the chase.

In which case, he'd run all day. He was hungry, and not just for moose.