Swiftcurrent Creek aim; it's a one shot take down

Her teeth sought him—he tussled with her, luring her away from the men and their parlay of words at the border. She was a distraction—he should have been there, too, talking with the man Arric was currently enlisting. Instead he was here, pulled once more to the sleek ebony she-wolf with little words and a great amount of persistence.

It was a delicious moment, and his own rumble would offer his enjoyment of it to her, his solid frame bowing down to invite a bout of play, should she accept.