Swiftcurrent Creek if you spent your whole life working

She tucked in—warm, soft and welcoming. There was still no sign of Lestan—and for a moment, the shadowrunner gave in to the wishes of the woman—to himself, if honest—and slowly laid next to her, wrapping about her, pulling her closer to continue soothing her.

She offered a part of herself—maybe. A stranger that came to their borders with no real rhyme or reason except seeking a place to rest. Her intentions were never made clear spare assumptions, and the frost-maned wolf would see if he could seize more from her, should she allow it. “Why does Jakoul need the creek?” She didn’t believe herself to be good, either—he could perhaps assess that in a moment. For now, he crooned lowly, a rumble in his chest, black fur melting to black fur.