Arrow Lake falling down a rabbit hole

She traipsed along the length of the lake, her bright eyes gleaming as they cast upon the smooth surface. A winter playground, though her calculating eyes noted the darker spots closer to the center -- an indication that indeed, the lake was not completely rigid with a frozen surface. The afternoon sun played upon her golden pelt -- a mixture of a confectioner's dream as brown sugar melted to honey and then to a rich cream --like the majority of her species this time of year, the Creek regal stood out against the stark white of the snow. Standing out had never shaken the lissome femme, however, and so she roamed the terrain as if he owned it, her posture proud.

Her movement was languid as she strolled the shorelines, the thrum of a growl erupting from her muzzle as one paw placed itself delicately upon the ice, testing her weight. No tell tale crackle of its denial came to her, and so she slid further out, a grin unfurling upon her slender muzzle. Her eyes would then skim the icy surface, and as she manoeuvred across the glassy surface, a small hole in the ice would prove to serve her purpose well. Perhaps, she would find the delicacy of fish within -- something she hadn't savored in some time.

He reveled in the warmth of the day, finding comfort in the golden rays that splashed down from above. Its light soothed him, and though the beast was made of inky shadow, he felt he preferred the light of the day. All the better for him to see and be seen, for mortal should quake in his presence, and shudder beneath his paw. No, he did not have any particular penchant for slinking in the darkness like a shameless predator - the darkness was cold and unyielding, and he far preferred the light which he could play on his face, manipulate to his desire, and eradicate at whim.

He strode in the light, and let the gold and yellow illuminate the hairs that hung heavy from his body, weighed down by oil and grime. Once, a creature had tried to cleanse him of the mud, the dirt and dried blood that caked in his fur, and he had struck them. He was a menace, and a filthy one at that; he held no desire to groom the debris from his pelt, and even less desire to allow anybody the privilege to touch him so. Raheerah's thick coat shook, even, with steps that he took, swaying as he moved like a rug draped over the body of the canine. Truly he was a monstrosity, a brute, a titan - he would dwarf what fool stood in his shadow, and soon, it would be the curious explorer of the frozen lake.

Raheerah saw her from a distance; having clambered among the mountains to reach this mysterious, closed in lake, he had spotted her first from above. An amalgamation of woody and warm hues, delightful to taste no doubt, he watched her sidle along the shoreline and then slowly move out onto its glassy surface. In this time, he had descended, and appeared on the shore opposite to where she had begun. And he, too, moved his body onto the ice. The first few steps remained silent, but as he progressed, heavy creaks and wails followed his movements. The ice shifted and bent to his weight, but did not give way, and he paused where he was confident the ice could still sustain him. He remained there, silently watching her, staring, curious.

She could smell him before she saw him. The stench of rot infiltrated her senses, stirring a snort to escape her as her muzzle swung lower, turning to glance across a slender shoulder. A monster rumbled down toward her – cloaked in a pelt of swarthy grey and black, she noted the immense size of him. Of course, it was not this which stirred calculation within her mind – it was the malicious intent that seemed to almost ooze from him – a presence of what could have been considered Sos himself, it was as if the great black bear had come to claim her for good.

He moved across the ice then. The crack of the frozen waters concerned her more than his presence, and with the sudden noise, she knew her chance of fishing had been vanished, at least for the present time. Shifting her golden figure, the she-wolf swept her gaze over him, curiously yielding upon the symbol that carved one of his eyes.

He did not speak – one fiery eye stared openly at her, and the River wolf could barely contain the small grin that threatened to slip forward. “You reek of death and power,” she erupted the silence with a purr, her eyes drifting over him once more. “What is it you seek here, dark angel?”

He stared at her further, watched as she shifted and rolled her gaze over him. Her eyes were like the sky, like the ice below them. They too were hard and cold, but they held a light of amusement in them that matched the grin worn on her lips. Raheerah only tilted his head in response, but her observation birthed an inevitable satisfaction that leaked into the creases of his visage. His own lips began to twist into a sneer; she could see well the very essence of the monster, and that pleased him. Few openly admitted to his imposing air, even fewer dared to acknowledge it. He liked her.

But she didn't smell like the valley. Only recently they had set their scents into the Earth, and he was accepting of wolves that did not bear a scent of their own. This one did carry a scent, that of others, of a different land. It begged the question of what she was doing here, and he supposed that was enough of a reason for him to have approached her. "Yoouu tread daangerously close to the Vale." He pointed out, but made no effort to gesture which direction this Vale lay - he would prefer to keep it secret, for now, assuming she didn't already know where it was. If that was the case, then he would have no need to direct her to it.

His tail swung behind him and he dared to step even closer. The ice groaned beneath his weight, crackling like thunder but not daring to release him to the waters, no, not yet. He ignored the ice below and fixed his gaze on her. "Yoou are no meeere waanderer." Raheerah added curiously, requesting of her identity. It should only be natural that he wondered of the dangers lurking outside of his new home.

He crept closer – darkness enveloped in the skin of a wolf, and yet the symbol upon his missing eye was a mystery to her. Her thoughts strayed to Lecter – what would the shaman make of the beast before her? Should she, in turn, attempt to shift past him and flee?

Yes. But Lethe was not the fleeing kind, and as the male prowled even closer still, she tipped her muzzle up, welcoming the shifting distance between them. His statement was answer enough, and an inhale of her quivering nostrils would indicate that the Vale was where he was from – a scent of earth and open air. She did not know where it lied, nor would she question it. Her own suspicions would have unleashed to any who dare question more of her home, after all.

“No,” she responded, agreeing with him. She shifted then, hearing the dull groan of the ice below her as her creamy paws massaged the cold surface. “I am from the Creek.” And likewise, she offered no further information – the full name of her home remained upon her tongue, while the vague notion that he was from the Vale aided him. Her eyes would flicker curiously to his cheek then, not glancing him to the eye, though wary should he not offer the same respect – she would not challenge him, but nor would she accept a challenge to her own dominance. She was not domineered by a male – not unless he fulfilled her somehow.

She did not look him in the eye, and the beast could not determine whether it was out of cowardice or some projected respect. Raheerah cared little for either possibility. He held her gaze within his own, meeting the cool blue eyes with the volcanic glow of his own. Like a sharp ember embedded with his skull he stared at her with a single unyielding eye, careless for what reason she didn't return his direct stare.

She shared an interesting scent. As the woman confirmed her origins - a different pack - Raheerah was quick to assume her to be their leader. She stood and moved like one. A regent on the ice. The domineering force. Raheerah quirked his head curiously. "Thaat which youu ruuule. Amm I correct?" He spoke with amusement, as though he'd engaged her in a harmless guessing game. Harmless for him, maybe.