Dragoncrest Cliffs if you keep screaming your name, it forces the assailant to acknowledge you as human.

@Aure :D Set prior to Thur's death

Artaax moved at an easy pace along the pack's borders, periodically stopping to mark and then moving along again. It had been an uneventful day thus far with nothing to suggest that it might get interesting any time soon. Any other wolf would've been pleased with this, but Artaax was Artaax, and he would've much preferred a fight. It would've stopped his mind from travelling to places he didn't want it to go, as it did so now.

Where was she? The feisripa pictured her beautiful, golden frame in his mind and felt warmth grow in his stomach at the thought. She had effectively rejected him the last time he had encountered her at the new year, however enough time had now passed that he no longer saw it that way. She had just stalled their union, needing to take care of some other business first. Then, she would be his. She had to be his. Artaax had never before been so immediately intoxicated by a woman, and though it can't at all be considered akin to love or anything the like (obsession or emphatuation would work far better), it was powerful all the same.

And it was thoughts like those he should not have been thinking. It drew his attention too close to the other events that had occurred around the time he'd met his golden gypsy. The white lion frowned in frustration and paused to mark the gnarled root of a tree. He glanced at its trunk for a long minute as he considered abandoning his current work and going for a hunt instead. At least hunting, he might have the chance to kill something. That was always therapeutic.