Totoka River knocking on the door

@Caiaphas I wasn't exactly sure how the pack's territory was laid out, so I took a bit of liberty here in assuming that the Totoka River included some of the shoreline that was adjacent to the pack's grasslands and cliffs and whatnot. Let me know if that works.

The coywolf was accustomed to following water; what started as a natural inclination had become his preference. Over the years he had come to depend on water not just for a drink but as a rich source of prey and even shelter, as the banks of many waterways were overgrown with thick tangles of alders and brush. Here, however, there would be no shelter to find. The river he had been following bled into the sea, and the the open expanse of shoreline promised little more than cold gusts of salty air. If he had been hungry though, Jaws knew that seemingly barren coastlines often offered a bounty of prey if one knew where to look as he did.

As the coywolf was not hungry he continued to lope along the sands, swift and soundless like the dark shadow of a bird cast on the ground from above. He would not have stopped if a pungent, unmistakeable scent did not catch his attention: a wolf pack's territory mark, the first Jaws had encountered since arriving in the park.

Twice Caiaphas had forded the river, only to be swiftly repelled by the water's ice sedge. In frustration she had lingered along the frozen bank, working out some sort of method in which to cross without subjecting her life to hazard. Even the tip of her tail twitched as she schemed, dainty and catlike -- with a nervous whine she began to pace.

Her slender ears snapped back when she only faintly detected the sound of a wolf loping -- she turned her narrow skull and her feral eyes fell upon a pitch figure who pulled along the pristine snow and interrupted the scintillating landscape like an oil-spill.

She scented the air tentatively, prepared to run if he was affiliated with either Duskfire or Stavanger -- yet the briny wind was most uncooperative and offered her no assurance. With the quietness of mink the coywolf slid from her ice-tipped vantage and watched him brazenly.

Jaws was not into the habit of trespassing. The coyote in him did not care for conflict and to invoke the ire of a defending pack was nothing short of foolish. As a survivalist, he much preferred to keep his body free from the sort of injury and infection that could occur when brawling with others.

As Jaws turned to head inland again his sharp eyes caught movement - a small female was watching him. She said nothing, and made no move to approach him - quite contrary to what his experience in the park had been so far. Jaws stared back at her, waiting to see if others would join her... but she was alone. Had she been a male Jaws would have more than likely have walked away, but he liked his ladies and highly suspected by the fine slender curves of her slight frame that she was also a coywolf.

"Like what you see?" he called to her, with a flick of his tail and that trademark devilish smile of his.

The Siren Queen's intensive studying was soon discovered -- but when the shroud-colored coywolf hailed her she did not look aside as if ashamed to be caught gazing. His query, alight with cheekiness, was met with the firm silence one would expect from a nun.

Despite the chastising quiet that spread between them, there was no visible indication to suggest the coywolf was offput by either his garrulous charm nor the quiet that followed it. Often, she found replies diminished the wit before them -- it was rare one could rebuke in a fashion that superseded the original proclamation.

But Caiaphas was rare -- in that she cared not for the rules of dictum or deportment. "I've seen drowned corpses I liked better." She replied at length, though no move was made to approach him.

She did not respond to him at once as others typically did, but he did not find this awkward as he was prone to doing the same. When she did call back it was cold, perhaps even harsh enough to make others take a step back, but Jaws smoothly countered her words. "Since you won't come closer I can only assume they must have smelled better too," his devious expression remained, and his focus never left her face. If she thought he was challenging her to make a move, he was. It was not often he met someone who intrigued him but this one did. Anything out of the ordinary was a curiosity to the coywolf, and this right now felt like a game, a break from the monotony.

Just like the tar colored coywolf, Caiaphas viewed their interaction as a game. Everything in the world, down to its provincial bones, was a game to her.

She drew herself upwards as the male's smooth rejoinder fluttered into the frigid air between them. She eyed him warily as he remained motionless -- ah, they seemed at an impasse.

Idly her tail flicked and she regarded his features carefully. At first she had assumed him a wolf, for he bore the fierce stature of one -- but there was something about his gaze and the slender meld of his muzzle that suggested otherwise.

"Dare you come closer?" She echoed, her expression bland despite the taunt that sung heavily in her words.

The uniquely colored female met his challenge with a challenge of her own. For a brief moment the silence between them that was there before had returned as they eyed each other. Jaws' grin slipped into a straight faced expression, dark and serious, but his eyes glinted. He walked with bold confidence toward her, his intense stare fixed on her. He approached to within a foot but was prepared to evade if she reacted with force. Their silhouettes were stark contrast to one another - she, small and angular, and him, tall and chiseled. Jaws leaned in close, answering her in a low voice.
"I dare."

The shadowed wraith was brave to approach Caiaphas -- or perhaps, he lacked any sort of conduit in which preservation could thrive. Caiaphas watched him as he approached, and with each step her hackles bristled -- with each foot he gained it appeared her fur rose outwards as if a volatile undercurrent ran through them.

When he spoke she tilted her muzzle to the side and parted her jaw, her teeth swinging upon him in the manner of an ill-swung bludgeon -- simultaneously she lept back and hopefully out of his striking range. She had hoped to nick his jaw, to subvert his gaze -- and once she sprung back she would remain defensive unless the coywolf rallied himself for assault.

In which case, she'd probably run.

Jaws' readiness was not unfounded; when the she-wolf snapped at him he reacted fast but her teeth still caught his lip as he pulled his head away. While she sprung back Jaws also retreated a step himself. She had dared him to come closer but seemed unnerved by his proximity, perhaps intimidated by his daunting stature or almost-predatory forwardness. She may simply have been unaccustomed to being treated with such disregard for personal boundaries. If only Jaws had more sense about social customs.

His gaze on her was unwavering as his tongue slid out and caressed his long canine before tasting the drop of blood she had drawn from him. "That was unnecessary," he said quietly as he sank back on his haunches, poised but less brash in display. "I don't bite... unless you ask me to."

To say relief flooded her when the able coywolf did not issue a physical rebuke would be an understatement. Of all things, Caiaphas was decidedly frail -- had he chosen a more volatile reply to her instigation she would have been forced to quickly flee his company.

As it was, he pulled back and sat in the manner of a cat -- but Caiaphas was not a slow-witted as most of her kin and fancied there seemed a predatory quality to his position. "Perhaps I'll have need of that, someday." The Siren Queen sniffed, her tone quite condescending. The narrowness of her muzzle, not unlike the sleek definition of a sharpened stone, was held aloft. She circled once, watching him as she did so -- and if he did not pursue her, she would make a dignified exit before Jaws came to regret his decision to withhold striking her.

In response to her Jaws winked, flashing her another impish grin, undeterred by her uninviting tone. "You might find yourself wanting it." He watched intently as she circled around him. He had the impression she was still anticipating violence, not knowing that the black coywolf was uninterested in fighting unless it was to ensure his survival. Although he was unashamed and blunt about pursuing his interests, he was not one to resort to force. If she wanted to leave he would not stop her.

The dowdy Siren watched her dark quarry carefully as she drew about him. His tongue, however sharp, fell short of any rebuke -- she offered the shortest of a spurious smile before she turned down the cold coast's shoreline.

Perhaps he would find himself wanting it more -- perhaps, Caiaphas envisioned -- withholding a trill of delight as she imagined it -- the dark male would pay her a visit. And when he did he would not find her coy looks nor her singular presence, but a wall of Nereides consorts. Consorts in which would delight to do her bidding.

These dark thoughts she devised often, and they accompanied her as she stole back towards the Sound's hearth.

She said not a word and nor did he, her face expressionless except or a flicker of a dark smile. For a few moments his head turned to watch as she departed, his tail swishing idly as he considered that perhaps she belonged to the nearby pack; but he did not stay to observe exactly where she went, continuing inland. "Strange cat," he mused to himself with a shake of his head. As he neared cover, a chirp and a glimpse of gray and white reminded him that although the cryptic female had left he still had company.