Greatwater Lake Do you want to meet all my monsters?

For @Zharille, when you have time!

A strange region, he deemed this to be. Too large to map out in a short stretch of time. It felt as though he had been walking for days, but wound up not too much farther from where he started.

No other word aside from irritated would describe Senayo best. This was, by far, turning into one of the worst times of travel. Hunger gnawed at his belly, thirst dried his tongue, and a lack of adequate sleep tore at the best of his attitude. If there was anything ever good about it to begin with. 

But when a soft wave of water trickled to his ear, his mood shifted ever so slightly. Pace increased, he tread for the bank of the wide lake. Then, after first being sure he was not being watched, the dark man ducked his head and took a fair drink. It was refreshing, far better than any mud water he'd tasted as of recent. Perhaps this place wasn't so terrible after all.

her ownership of the lake's edge was almost certain now, and she behaved as any ruler would: taking a stroll while the light was bright, observing the way the clouds gathered for a time, or the stillness of the water. zharille was at peace with the ending of her season; but she knew the peace would not last, not given the population growth upon her land.

she had half a mind to seek out ranva, if only to check on the woman and make certain nothing would spawn forth from her loins. the only one welcome to motherhood was herself. however, her thoughts stalled. there was movement along the edge of the lake - a shadow.

she thought it might be khaba, finally returned. they were at enough distance that zharille could not see them well, and the wind was not in her favor. she sulked closer; crooning a note to him, as if he were a friend.

From his ventures quenching his thirst, a sound found his ear. Someone sent a soft croon. A friendly noise, as that; almost knowing and familiar. But this individual was not in fact familiar to him. None here would have been.

Turning warily, a leveled gaze found sight of the stranger. Momentarily, he was confused as to why she approached him in the way she had. Maybe he should have felt honored? But he didn't. Instead, he felt furtherly cautious and slightly taken-aback. 

For a long while, it seemed, Senayo plainly stared, waiting for some additional movement or some form of explanation as towards her behavior.

no, this was not khaba. this was someone different - and they were upon her shores! the realization came swiftly, sharply, and with it came the rise of zharille's ire. how dare someone cross her scent lines and move so boldly!

resembling something more porcine than wolf for a moment, the fur of her nape flared, and her tail rose up to arc over her back. she did not stand stationary as she took in the look of the man; no, zharille was much more animate — lunging towards him, snapping her teeth, eager to bludgeon and teach him a lesson.

perhaps to herd him away, or to crowd him towards the water, she did not know how he would react. but she sought his skin with her teeth when she got close enough, her own safety be damned.

The initial approach of this wolf and their present response to the man were entirely different. Rather than beckon him once more, she would lunge, aiming to hurt him in any manner she saw fit.

Though, Senayo had little time process this change before the moment came to act on evading her teeth. He did not want to fight her, as this had not been his original intention. And he would make this known, lest he let her anger get the better of him and drive him to violence he did not desire.

In response to her sudden attacks, the dark furred man would carefully step back small paces at a time, chin high to keep clear of her furious blows, and ears pinned high. Her teeth came for him eagerly, and where they snagged, he ignored, focusing on trying to deter her thought of him. He was no enemy, nor did he want to be. Would she not see this? Would he be forced to fight his way out?

her attacks snapped air more often than not, regardless of her skill or intent; the man backed off hastily and shrank himself. zharille's reaction was fueled more by her surprise and feeling stupid for confusing a friend with a potential foe - and now she was perplexed. he did not fight back. neither did he run.

she relented, snorting, pacing now - but she had stopped her assault. curiosity focused her thoughts upon the man and she watched him warily, her tail arched high.

She had accepted his mannerism, but mistaken it for surrender. What was he surrendering? This was no battle, and he was no enemy. But perhaps, in her eyes he was.

Pacing, Senayo watched the woman. And after a moment more, he began to move. Not towards — around. He did not assume she would be welcoming if he approached so suddenly. But he intended to greet her, and in the way he was accustomed. 

Prancing, now, he circled. Tail high, chin high, but eyes leveled, filled with the farthest thing from hostility. 

Her scent wafted near as he moved. He took it all in, familiarizing himself. But still, the distance remained. If she snapped in defiance, Senayo would have time to retreat a step or two.

he did not run, and he did not strike at her. they were both preoccupied with one-another; and the woman huffed, simultaneously bored of this dance and irritated, as her adrenaline surged high. he looked healthy and well-fed. he was young, maybe - and while she was indeed impressed by the look of him, zharille remained unsure, as he had appeared as if from nowhere upon her land.

his tail was up and his features were alert. she did not like the posturing he held, but it was fortunate that this was a man she did not know, as that made him somehow appealing the same way the other men of her collection had. she gave a chuff and boldly stepped closer as he made his retreat, reaching out to taste the air around him, rumbling a warning sound as if to say, stand still or wait!

if he relented, and if he did not strike at her now, perhaps they would find a middleground.