Ravensblood Forest cold door handles

A tarnish goldie awaited him on the shores and his heart had frozen for a moment as the soggy bastard stood stock still. Shit, was it Arana?! 

A moment had had passed before Siqsa discarded the notion. Arana typically bounded up to him, and she was thinner, more like a streak of golden lightning than this creamy blond. Also the emerald eyes were gone, replaced by a color nearly like the coat. A pretty color.
But not his sister. 

However! Every other aspect of this wolf was unknown to him, and with it being a stranger, the wolf knew a bit to be conflicted between relaxing and taking up defense. He was wounded, sick, and the effects of the sea waned from him, diminishing his strength by the seconds. As he walked further onto land, the massive wolf dog felt himself coming back into a mortal coil. This wolf however, seemed like no trouble. He was smaller, and therefore Siqsa nearly arrogantly swaggered to the male. Yet his wounds held him back, as well as the chiding from Ruenna and Kavik alike to change his ways. Or even that strange other voice who belonged to a face he couldn’t remember not remember seeing. He could change, to try and be a different being. Nice? This guy wouldn’t know left from right on who Siqsa was, and the Demon decided to attempt something new. 

“Hey,” he began. God, the tone was off, still holding some grudge of a growl at the creamy male just a meter from him. “Hey?” He asked trying to correct himself a bit and seem a bit more approachable. Was this what ‘nice’ sounded like? The voice sounded like it belonged to someone who trusted this stranger with his back turned. Anything could fucking happen! 

Shit, should he atleast keep it going? Or back off so the other guy could say hi? Or should he just introduce himself first? Maybe let the guy go first? Well he kinda greeted him back but just not like all the way but-

well he got his attention and well, 

“FUCK! This is too hard!“ he snarled the curse at the ground as a cough fought for purchase in his trunk-like chest. Neck everso more leaning to lower his crown back in its forsaken posture, he closed his blood ruby gaze to the wet sand. “How to be nice?!How do you do ‘pleasant?!“ The Dragon son was frustrated, and he did poorly to hide his emotions as of right now. He was fumbling to figure out how to even start a conversation in the way of ‘nice’ let alone try to make a ‘friend’. How could he trust this dude wouldn’t turn around and kill his ass? 

Shaking his coat out, he tried to atleast seem somewhat larger from a flung out dark navy pelt, but the act left him breathless. Almost woozy. But on shaking limbs that held power once, the 2 year old would be damned if this dude thought he could take him on without a fight.