Silvertip Mountain Mind of Stone, Heart of Glass
Saints Of The Dying Light

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"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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#1
All Welcome 
Setting - 18:00, Clear Skies, 70 degrees.
Forward dated to after Aphrodite’s rescue. (Whenever that will be lol)

With a mind muddled from recent events, he treks west of his newly claimed territory of Ravensblood Forest, to a mountain he knew not the name of. He travels along the side of the mountain, sticking to the dangerous ledges that have become trails over decades of others just like him. The trails are narrow and the wind is threatening at these heights. It doesn’t stop him, neither does the aching of his muscles at the steep upward climb, for the memories continue to shovel coal into the engine that is his mind to keep him going.

A cave catches his eyes and as fast as he’s able, he makes it into the suspicious tear in the mountain face. Skulking around and sniffing, leathery nose to the ground, and ears swiveling to listen. He catches a scent, but only hears droplets of water and the forever whistling wind that bounces off the cave walls.

Brows furrowing at the scent that alerts him, he drives onward. Golden hues looking at the various assortment of crystals that lines the rocky walls, ceilings, and floors. The further he goes in, the darker it gets. He’s able to see light reflecting off of a particularly big crystal, the beam bountiful with the vibrant colors of the rainbow reach another, then another, then another. Eventually as his gaze travels, following the endless supply of rainbows, he’s astonished by the pictures painted by the reflections. Extraordinary pictures, are painted all over the walls, everything is bathed in the vibrant hues of the light from so far back into the cave.

Then all peace and quiet comes to a grueling halt when a shuffling meets his ears. Looking up to find the sheen of red eyes reflecting back at him. The thing looking absolutely monstrous by the reflection on the beast before him. It’s a wolverine. Black fur tinted with all types of hues, four inch long claws tap tap tap on the gravely floor as he comes forward, fearless of the wolf that bares himself so confidently before him. Donovan, baring his teeth viciously, he stands tall and squares his shoulders. Snapping jaws, the noise echoes off the walls along with a savage growl resonating deep from Donovan’s throat as he goes toe to toe with this wolverine.
Saints Of The Dying Light

The Harbinger
I've learned to lose you, can't afford to
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Ooc — Hela
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#2
steals this


She had finally added the northern part of the territory back to her patrol routes, deciding that she couldn't avoid it forever—not if she wanted to be a proper Beta and protect the forest. It had been too long since she had climbed up the steep sides and jagged ledges of the mountain that hugged their northeast border, and she felt only a muted sadness as her gaze cut to where she knew the glacier was. It felt good to be confronting the memories and getting back to normal, and she jumped up to the ledge above her and then the next one. But a dark familiar scent made her freeze and look around. It didn't take her any time to recognize it as belonging to Donovan. She wondered what he was doing over here, so close to her forest. 

She followed the trail higher up into the mountains than she normally went. She climbed up to the entrance of a cave and followed the scent inside. Light reflected strangely off the rocks that seemed to sparkle where they were lodged within the stone of the walls. She slowly moved deeper, eyes widening at the way the light changed as it passed through the strange rocks. Snarling from deeper in the cave made her freeze again, but only for a split second before she sprinted forward. 

The cave only took her in one direction, but it was still a few long minutes before she finally reached him, the continued sounds of fighting urging her to push her muscles to make her go faster. 

Within seconds of having them in her sight, she launched herself forward with an angry snarl, jumping onto the strange creature. Her teeth snapped once on air, but quickly sunk into the flesh if its shoulder. It gave an angry screech before snapping its own teeth in her direction, forcing her back a few steps to narrowly miss its jaws in her face. She jumped forward again with a snarl, snapping at the air in front of it and pulling back again when it retaliated.
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Saints Of The Dying Light

Grandmaster*
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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Ooc — Malia
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#3
As he stands there and readies himself for surely a savage battle for life and death, the most curious thing happens. Just out of the corner of his eye he spots movement and–like a lightening bolt–another Wolf is dashing out in front of him and snapping teeth viciously at the wolverine. The other is nothing but a white blur to him, splotched with the wild colors of the reflected lights. The claws of the animal slash and it’s white teeth show in retaliation, it’s unafraid and Donovan knows now that this will be a fight to the death. Not for him at least, but for the Wolverine.

His canary hues squint in the odd lighting, focusing on the other wolf beside him. The familiar scent hits his nose and instantly a bright, confident smile weaves it way onto his face. An excited, open mouthed bark of laughter is released from his throat. 

“So you’ve come to save me, princess?” He teases, eyes flicking back to the matter at hand.

He adeptly pounces onto a taller rock, muscles shifting beneath his thick, brindle coat as he catapults himself down from the rock and behind the animal. He’s ready to tear this son of a bitch apart. “I distract, you grab?” He asks quickly as a makeshift plan.
Saints Of The Dying Light

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I've learned to lose you, can't afford to
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The thing seemed to back off for a few moments, perhaps regrouping and deciding how best to go up against two larger predators. Donovan of course took the pause to offer some slightly irritating remark, earning him an exasperated look. Yeah, don't make me change my mind, she teased back.

She couldn't help but watch his muscles shift beneath his skin as he deftly leapt to a rock and then down behind the now snarling creature. A murderous grin spread across her face at his plan. Let's do it, she told him. Then she put all her focus on the angry animal, waiting for Donovan to to distract it so that she could find an opportunity to sink her teeth into it once more.
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Saints Of The Dying Light

Grandmaster*
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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#5
Now at the backside of the wolverine, he watches as the animal spits and growls back at them, occasionally looking back to hiss back at him. Taking this opportunity to distract it, his orbs shoot to one of its hind legs, planning on grabbing it by the thigh. 

He allows his golden eyes to look back up to her. “Try and grab his neck and I’ll grab his leg.” He says quickly. Then gazing at her devilishly he quirks a malicious smirk. “Then we can play some tug of war.” 

With that, he pounced forward. Mouth opening and teeth bared, he shoots down to wrap his maw around the animals haunches with savage intent. The hot lands and he pulls back, the wolverines is on him instantly, wondering where the source of pain is coming from. It snaps its vicious teeth at him and he moves his moves in times to avoid them, hoping the female will have an open window to grab the animal before it grabs him.
Saints Of The Dying Light

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I've learned to lose you, can't afford to
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#6
Some might have been irritated being charged with the biting end if the beast, but not Simmik; she was glad for the challenge, and it showed in the widening of her grin and the gleam in her fiery eyes. She offered him a nod, and then waited for her opportunity to grab hold of the creature. 

Donovan clamped on to the animal's leg, stealing all of its attention and giving her the perfect chance to grab her end. She lunged forward and snapped her jaws shut around the back of its neck just as it went for Donovan again. It flung its head back and forth, protesting her hold and causing her to lose her grip. It took that opportunity to snap back at her, teeth grazing her cheek. Blood stained the fur there, but she didn't even register the pain. She clamped her teeth around the back of the angry creature's neck once more, this time holding on tighter so that when it tried to free itself again, she was expecting and and held on. 

Her gaze shot to him, asking if he was ready, as the beast struggled within their hold. Her body shifted to each side as she tried to keep her hold, and then she threw her weight back and pulled.
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Saints Of The Dying Light

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#7
He’s filled to the brim with childish excitement over killing, maybe there’s something wrong with him. Actually, yeah, there’s definitely something wrong with him. For his heart pounds wildly in his chest, glowing eyes peer at the snowy female as she struggles with her end. Not really too much of a struggle as it is a fight for purchase. He never lets go of the things leg, rather he grinds teeth harder down into bone when he feels a harder pull and a snap of teeth on the opposite end of the Wolverine. All of a sudden there’s a red gash on the female’s pretty, little face. Thankfully, it doesn’t deter her, so sensing an opportunity to help, he pulls back and shakes his body. He’s sure it sends sharp tendrils of pain spiking through the animals nervous system. It’s this that allows her to grab ahold of the beast once more.
Her alluring auburn eyes seem blood red in the odd refections of light as she shoots him a look, realizing she has a hold of the furred neck he smirks — it’s time to tug. The force to which she pulls back impresses him and it encourages to pull harder. He’s yanking and thrusting his massive body in the opposite direction of his newfound companion as she does the same. 

The screams of the beast before him are blood curdling and it’s music to his fucked up ears — albeit horrible, screechy sounding music — but it’s music nonetheless. The next thing he hears is a crack and an extraordinary, audible tear of flesh and he’s ripped the animals leg right off. Spitting out the appendage, he wastes no time in slinking under and grappling at its soft underbelly horribly with his teeth. A vicious shake of his head and some tugging later it’s entrails are splattered all over the grimy, cave ground before them. He’s slipping on its blood and stepping on its intestines.

At this point his whole head is covered in the sickly sweet crimson of blood. It’s splattered across his creamy chest and stains his teeth. He looks like an absolute nightmare. He screams are dying down now. Yet he doesn’t know if he wants to be done. Ultimately, he’ll allow the female to make the decision. Until then, he grabs on the lower back of the animal and tugs more, the sound of a spine crunching in his grip is horrid and echoes through the cave. He won’t stop until Simmik drops the kill.
Saints Of The Dying Light

The Harbinger
I've learned to lose you, can't afford to
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#8
They seemed to be on the same page, even without saying anything. One look from her and a tug, and she could feel him pulling from the other end. The more he pulled, the more she did too, spurred on by her own lust for blood. She enjoyed this game too, and she found satisfaction in the taste of its blood as her teeth sank deeper with the force needed to keep hold and continue to tug. 

The screams didn't deter her or make her loosen her grip, they only encouraged her—confirmed that she what she was doing was right. She heard the rip of flesh, the beast screeching in her ear as it's leg was ripped from its body. She stumbled back a few steps but held on, whipping her head back and forth as the creature still tried to fight. The smell of blood was instantly thicker in the air, and the beast was suddenly sluggish in her hold. She refused to let go though, shaking her head furiously as her jaws ripped deeper into its flesh, blood spilling and dripping down her pale legs. That was when she saw the thing's insides on the ground beneath them. Her gaze lifted for a moment to Donovan, covered in blood and flesh. It was quite a sight, but not one that scared her, strangely enough; it was quite the opposite, but she had no time to entertain the thought right then. He snatched the back end of the creature, the sound of the snapping of its spine filling the air around them. Deciding it was time to end it, she bit down as hard as she could, severing vessels and smashing its windpipe. 

Then she dropped its motionless body, gaze slowly lifting to Donovan. She was panting and blood splattered the white of her legs and chest, mixing with her own in the places it painted her face. She didn't move, she just stared, exhilarated and completely taken with how ruthless he had been and how terrifying he looked. Her heart raced in her chest, and a hard swallow moved down her throat between panting, but still she stared.
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Saints Of The Dying Light

Grandmaster*
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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#9
His eyes only leave the female beside him for a moment to flicker down to the gory mess on the cave floor. Blood and guts mixing in with raw flesh and gallons of blood. Tendrils of skin and other nasty shit hangs from the concave of where it’s stomach should be. A few of the organs are still connected and flop about uselessly as he still has a hold of it, continuing to shake violently. God. He growls in his head. He loves it. 
He’s in his own world for a moment before he feels the front end on the animal drop and his adrenaline filled eyes shoot back to the she-wolf. She’s already dropped it and he’s only slightly embarrassed — just kidding, no he’s not. He takes pride in the work that’s bestowed before them. It has his blood rushing and boiling with a type of euphoria that he knows probably isn’t normal.

With his gaze stuck on her and his teeth still imbedded in the bones and muscle of the wolverines back, he notices the way she looks to him. He’s unable to read her expression, but he thankfully rules out any fear or disgust. That alone is enough to thoroughly enrapture him. Finally he’s dropping the kill and it causes a wet splash to sounds throughout the cave along with their labors breathing.

Donovan pants wildly, red teeth on display along with a crimson tinted, black tongue. He doesn’t take his hues off of her, rather he goes to slink them down her front half. 
The blood smeared all over her muzzle and face, gathering at her neck and chest, and further to her front legs. What a sight for sore eyes she is, the cherry red of blood such a stark contrast against her thick arctic coat. Her chest heaves with her own heavy breathes and he follows the motion when she swallows thickly. 

Then finally his eyes flick back up to hers and his open moves moves subtly into a smirk. Fuck.” He sighs out almost huskily. He wouldn’t want to admit it but he might just be feeling a certain type of way.
Saints Of The Dying Light

The Harbinger
I've learned to lose you, can't afford to
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Ooc — Hela
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#10
He further destroyed the carcass before finally releasing his end, a mess of blood and organs on the floor between them. He stared back at her, and she could feel her skin heat as he dragged his gaze over her blood stained body. Even as she swallowed, his eyes watched. She had never felt so wanted before, and the feeling was intoxicating. But as alive as it all made her feel, she had no idea what to do with the feelings. For now, all she could do was watch him watching her.

He finally spoke, and it broke through her strange trance, a grin spreading across her own face. Her gaze lowered to the mess on the floor and then slowly lifted back to him. That was fun, she finally replied, not even caring enough to be embarrassed at how breathy her voice sounded. She was still too in the moment to worry about hiding any feelings from him. Besides, she didn't really want to hide her appreciation of him. There was something dark about him that she decided right then that she liked.
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Saints Of The Dying Light

Grandmaster*
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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#11
The colors that continuously bounces off of them and the surrounding area still amazing him and for a second he actually seeks refuge from her gaze by looking to the patterns painted along the walls. He is going to lose it. He’s already burning up from the physical exertion of killing that wolverine. Now he fears he might jump the poor woman if he stares at her any longer. He’s sure she won’t  mind, but he wants to see how far he can take her. He wonders why he’s even hesitating. He’s confident in his ability to do just about anything, yet even when the most obvious signs of attraction continue to bitch slap him across the face, he finds himself hindered.

Still panting he shakes himself off and languidly settles his eyes back on the bloodied wolf. Instantly, as if the thoughts never even crossed his mind, he wants to do something that he’ll either get praised for; or his ass beat for. He is most definitely willing to rake the risk in the heat of the moment.

So Donovan saunters over there, confidence in his languid step. He looks to her like she’s something worth eating. He’s unabashed at the the blatant want in his gaze. He continues walking around her backside and comes up beside her.

“I didn’t know you’d look so good in blood, dear.” He nearly growls into her ear. The side of his body pressed up to hers. “I could help you clean that off if you’d like.” He offers with a shit eating grin.
Saints Of The Dying Light

The Harbinger
I've learned to lose you, can't afford to
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#12
For a few moments, he looked away, but she still kept her gaze on him. It was strange to see him look away when he had been watching her so intently just seconds before. She followed his gaze to the strange colors reflected on the walls of the cave, and then when he shook out his coat and looked back to her, she locked eyes with him again. 

Finally, he moved towards her, his expression making her skin heat and her heart beat impossibly faster. She followed him with her eyes as he made his way around her, turning her head when he came to stand on her other side. She was aware of every place his body pressed against hers, and still high with adrenaline, she couldn't stop the shiver that ran along her spine as he growled his compliment in her ear. I could say that same about you, she managed to breathlessly get out. At his offer, she looked down but only for a second while she gathered the confidence to answer his question. When she lifted her eyes again, there was invitation in her gaze. Okay, she murmured.
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Saints Of The Dying Light

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"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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#13
They both radiate too much body heat and he swears the cave is steaming up. Or maybe it’s just him; his thick, layered pelt trapping the heat that’s being produced inside him for a various amount of reasons. It only mildly bothers him, the other part drives him mad. Espoused he looks down to the female beside him.

She’s breathless, much like he was just moments before. Her mouth forms around breathy words almost in a whisper as she compliments him back. He hums back appreciatively, the noise from deep within his sternum. Her gaze briefly travels downward, he’s unsure what goes through her mind, but by the shivers that wrack her body, she wouldn’t be denying him. Or so he hopes. 

Whatever battle she fights within her seems to dissipate well enough for her to finally grace him with an answer to his intrusive offer. The eyes that look back to his with that hidden desire only encourage him. His brows are slightly furrowed, but not in any type of malicious way. Rather, he exposes himself further by the pleasure that is obvious in his expressions. Lips part and it’s only now he realizes his usual smirk faltered the moment she looked back to him out of sheer heated interest. Finally he comes out of trance she’s put on him to hear her final reply. 

Upon accepting his request, he sighs a breath out through his nose and leans down to meet her neck with his nose. He nuzzles the dark leather of it in her thick, blood stained fur. Only to allow the flat of his tongue to generously lick the blood from her coat. The motions aren’t rushed, but more languid and fluid in their motions. Donovan is sensual for what a brute he usually is, all the while his sparkling, canary hues are hooded and continue to watch her expressions intent on taking in her every reaction. A pleasurable, rumbling purr escapes his throat even though he isn’t receiving any physical sensations, for he takes pleasure in giving it as well.
Saints Of The Dying Light

The Harbinger
I've learned to lose you, can't afford to
800 Posts
Ooc — Hela
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#14
It was hard not to stare at the drastic change in his expression when she lifted her gaze to him; it was different than his usual confident smirk. It offered her a glimpse into his feelings, and the knowledge only stoked the fire in her stomach. How one heated look could cause such a reaction, she didn't know, but she was in no state of mind to question such things. She would rather bask in his attention and affection, and think about the why of everything later when she wasn't distracted by more interesting things. 

The moment she felt his nose move through her fur, another shiver moved through her, completely absent of her conscious control. Adrenaline still coursed through her veins, and her senses remained heightened, leaving her skin almost too sensitive. But the slow swipes of his tongue against her fur seemed to soothe that some, and a soft sigh left her in response. She closed her eyes and leaned into the affection, like she had done last time. Another shiver moved down her spine as she felt his rumbled pleasure vibrate against her where he was currently working to clean the blood from her fur. Her breathing sped up again, her whole body seeming to move with each inhale and exhale. She swallowed against her dry throat. Was he planning to remove every speck from her fur this way? Because if so, she was pretty sure she might combust right there.
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Saints Of The Dying Light

Grandmaster*
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
1,788 Posts
Ooc — Malia
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#15
He likes the hitch in her breath that his ears just barely catch. It’s doesn’t only convince him to keep going but it causes him to look back up to capture her heated expressions.
His mouth opens his mouth and even settles his jaws upon her fur. He doesn’t open his maw enough to cover her whole throat, which he could’ve done, rather he only opens it enough to get all four canines on the she-wolf. When he does so, Donovan doesn’t apply enough to pressure to worry. He only keeps this position for a second or two then travels up, leaving short sweet kisses on his way up. A blackened tongue brushes her ear then more directly, the male goes to lick her muzzle. His tongue gliding over whiskers and her leathery nose almost sensually. All the while his eyes are only open a crack to reveal a sliver of yellow gazing back at her. 

Then all of a sudden he’s pulling back and grinning at her with a sigh. “Guess we’d better eat then.” Is all he says in a gravely, pleasure ridden voice. “I’d assume you’d want to take it back to your pack? I could help you carry it.” He offers, he still carries a hint of his teasing lilt to his words.
Saints Of The Dying Light

The Harbinger
I've learned to lose you, can't afford to
800 Posts
Ooc — Hela
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#16
Her eyes remained shut as he worked his way to her throat, but they flew open when she felt his teeth rest against the skin there. He didn't apply much pressure, but the move felt dominant. Her initial reaction was irritation, but she also decided she kind of liked it, which pissed her off. Before she could think much more about it, though, he was making his way up her neck, and she was thoroughly distracted again. 

As he made his way to her nose, she met his gaze, her own glazed over. But then he stopped and pulled back, giving her that irritating grin that she really only liked when he wasn't driving her crazy. How could she be all but a melted puddle on the ground while he was talking about eating and taking the carcass back to her pack like he hadn't just sensually cleaned the blood from her fur. Yet his voice relayed some of the heat she felt on every inch of her body—just enough to keep her hooked without actually giving her what she wanted. It was so frustrating. 

For a few moments, she just stared at him, a frown twisting her previously relaxed expression. But she decided she didn't actually want him to know the full effect he had on her; it plucked at her pride in a big way. So just as quickly as he had shifted gears, she pretended to do so as well. The frown softened and gave way to a playful raise of an eyebrow. She shrugged. Let's eat, and then we can take it back to the forest, she told him. And then she brushed past him and got to work on the creature's eviscerated abdomen.
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Saints Of The Dying Light

Grandmaster*
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
1,788 Posts
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#17
Fade on next post? Or continue? I’m good with either. ;)

He knows it irks her, the way he teases and plus with her. Another thing he know is that she likes it. There’s no way she doesn’t, going off of her reactions. If it obvious enough, he definitely doesn’t have a problem with teasing her like he does. In fact, he tries to do it as often he can. Or as often as he thinks he can get away with before she bites his face off and decides to throw him away because she’s sick of his bullshit (something he’s used to). 

This all becomes more obvious as her previously lax expression twists into a loose, pouting frown. At this he smiles innocently and can’t help the bubble of laughter that sneaks past his lips at her displeasure. He really can be a shithead at times. 
Finally her stone cold expression lifts to reveal a playful smile. One he’s deciding he might like, one that makes him want to wipe it off of her maw in a whole different type of situation. She announces that they’d get the kill back to the forest and brushes past him. He follows her movement the whole way, not at all hiding what he is thinking. All he gives back is a smooth, “After you, dear.” 
Saints Of The Dying Light

The Harbinger
I've learned to lose you, can't afford to
800 Posts
Ooc — Hela
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#18
fading is good with me! maybe they can have a current one?


She met his laugh with a playful glare that promised some kind of retribution if he kept things up. The way he watched her move made her stomach tighten, but she still only offered him the teasing look. One day, the teasing might push her too far, but for now, she did kind of like it, even if it left her frustrated and wanting.

And when he was ready to move the kill, she would help him heave it down the mountain and to the borders of her forest. It would make a good meal for the pack, and she could tell them her friend—for lack of a better word—helped her kill it. She really was thankful the thing hadn't found its way down into her territory. They had young pups who would have been vulnerable to the creature. But it was no longer a problem thanks to Donovan, and her of course.
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