t h i r s t

The arrival of spring came with a twitching and burning of her flesh. She is aflame, and she can feel Carpe’s warmth close to her. Her handsome betrothed male, with his rugged looks and scars. Her every step is more accentuated than usual. Drawn upwards and forwards, as though coaxed by some ragged sensation pooling in her spine. She knows what this is. Had been warned of it. She was a wolf now into her pup-bearing years, and this was nature’s way of telling her so. Her tail curved and arched above her frame, the ebony lilt of her coat marked only by the scars on her legs and the twin bracelets of horns that wrap around the lower part of her leg. She knows she’s beautiful, and she makes sure that every movement of her body is designed to inflame her counterpoint. She knows how he hates her moods.

Especially moves like this, where her body would tremble with need, and those startling silver eyes would gleam around at this unusual world. She is late to come to her season, but it is fading now. She kept Carpe from her those long days and nights where her body fairly sang for his touch; but they were not safe. She would not bring life into a world where she had nowhere stable. If, indeed, they could succeed in breeding. It was an interesting thing, in the end. Her body moves and flows with each obsidian step she plants to the ground. The world here is greater than she is used to, the scents of wolves all about her. Her nose flares and her head tips in an unconscious, yet coquettish, manner. Her tail wags lightly behind and above her spine, her fur sleek to her back. She hopes Carpe’s close.

If he isn’t, then she is here alone and that just isn’t right. Her body would shift and turn as she finds the scent of water on her tongue. Summer had come, and it was hot – an overbearing heat for the ebony-pelted female. She, tall and willowy, pants lightly as she follows the scent. The pool of water she finds is tiny – barely deep enough to wet her paws, but she sates her thirst within it. She moves afterwards into the swaying shadow of the willows, her body reclining down as she rests her finely-crafted head upon outstretched, lean paws. From here, she will watch and wait for Carpe, so that they may make their decisions together. Silver eyes close to slits as the femme feigns sleep to throw off the male she is betrothed to and in love with. She had yet to voice her emotions. They would wait.