Otter Creek the art of the fox

while jaws did not exude the unclean miasma that crescendo did, starling could not help but feel her personal space a little violated as the dark male strode about her. he was confident -- she had to be -- and boldly she stared at him as he circled her in the manner of a stoat.

she would refuse to show any sign of trepidation, despite the heart which had leaped up above her throat and sat pounding in her dry mouth. she could not afford to show any weakness, not to strangers. "why do they call you that?" she asked incredulous, unsure if she should be giving his jaws a wide berth..