Blackfeather Woods the road ahead feels lonely

A low, guttural croon echoes from Zaahira's throat, drawn out and desolate. A quiet sound, perhaps not unlike a chuff or a bark. There is someone nearby, and she is well aware of it. 
Swiftly, she turns a corner, snaking beneath a pine in pursuit of the presence. A lumbering shadow is there to greet her, looming and pleasantly threatening. Eyes of fire scan the figure from a safe distance. She does not make herself known in full, only offering a flick of her tail half-visible from between shrubs. Should he approach, she would welcome it with wide-open eyes and parted lips. Eager.