Qeya River devourer

stigmata was perusing, keeping far from the pounding rush of the river nearby. it was for a good reason - the warhound wouldn't be snuck up on - and it was a tactic proved fruitful when a haughty, wan creature approached him. he watched the victress prowl forward, feeling objective enough to appreciate her brashness for what it was rather than finding it distasteful. he stood loosely, on the surface appearing unaffected by her statement, but beneath his stole of smoky fur, he was prepared to react to any physical action she might take up with him.

the ophidian wolf stared at her squarely. "yes," he agreed flatly; "i am near at least two claims, by my count." he blinked, slow and moody. "which one is yours?"