Firefly Ravine fifteen states [m]

though velaryon had meant for his appraisal of her to be quick: a brushing study like the soft flutter of a butterfly's wings ... it is not. it is a heavy, studious moment, like a maestro studying a masterpiece that was not his own.

impressed. yearningly, perhaps even greedily.

she smells of pack ... and that enticing scent that velaryon has only ever placed with womanhood. it warms him, wraps 'round him like a sun, stoking low, hot fires along his skin.

alluring.

drawing him a ghosting step nearer; golden gaze studying her reaction for how his mean to close the distance between them might be perceived. her croons were inviting enough ... but still, he is no stranger to the dance despite being a stranger to her — as he is to her.