Blackfoot Forest not even into another eternity

The wood seemed to come to life with the touch of the wind and the cry of the foxes within. Kavos prowled between the looming trunks with a lean frame and a silent swagger that emanated from his predatory figure. The sound of the red-furred creatures seemed to linger on the air like a day worn spell from some woodland nymph. It was difficult for the ghost to comprehend theories of magic in a world that knew very little of it. It was all that his life had lacked, and he had instead been thrust into an existence that was comprised of only challenge. Burning but cold at the same time.
 
The leonine stalker sauntered forward at a quick step. The breath of the wood fell against the lengthy wisps of his buttercream coat. The savage regarded the passing trees with little interest, marking a mental roadmap in his mind of where he had been and where he was going. In his mapping, the ghostly creature caught sight of the stunning red woman before he had ever scented her. Immediately, he recognized her as the wolf who had stumbled upon him and his convenient catch. After another moment, her aroma drifted toward him and he drank in it with a placid expression.
 
The brute paused in his steps and waited to see if the woodland woman would sight him, or if she would pass him by without regarding his presence. The tempest tossed against his frame again, teasing the boughs of the trees overhead with a kind of tenderness before disappearing. Kavos breathed deeply the musky tone of the wood and lowered his skull toward the earth. His shoulder jutted from his back in sharp angles; the tension in his frame was palpable.