Bearclaw Valley moreau's golem

stigmata's ears turned back in an exasperated motion as he heard the wretched beauty follow. she offered to assist him, drawing from the gargoyle a soft and uneasy sigh. "you shall," he rumbled, feeling a tightness to his stride that hadn't been there before. he reflected mostly on how this entire situation had backfired on him; oh, if only she'd been unvirtuous -- a vamp! -- he lamented through his ragged silence; curse her unsullied gentility for vexing him!

aware that concealing emotions wasn't exactly his strong suit, he led mona forward at a remorseless pace with his muzzle kept shut tight like a coffer for all his secrets. he tried not to let her catch his eye or otherwise find him ruffled primitively by her presence. he was trying so hard not to pay her much mind that he was forgetting to put his nose to the ground and hunt for something...

a rustle in some nearby bushes, as a rabbit tore away from the swiftly approaching wolves, reminded stigmata to weaken his tread and absorb himself more into his surroundings rather than his companion.