stop and smell the brimstone

The man's long, elegant legs carried him effortlessly along the edge of the mountain-top lake, his paws leaving deep marks in the black, sandy clay. The smell here was strong at first, but over time he'd grown used to it. He'd visited here often for the solitude - he assumed other wolves stayed away to avoid the smell of sulfur - and he rather enjoyed his time alone. It was a change he welcomed since escaping captivity under Sabine's cruel, iron paw. Not that he'd minded at times, for he was a twisted creature who thrived under the claws of abuse, but for once he wished to be in control of his own life. And perhaps be in control of another, as well. If his master returned, he was sure he would go to her in a heartbeat and allow her to continue tormenting him, yet for the time being he was a free man and he intended to take full advantage of it.

That was when he spotted the large woman who seated herself on the far shore. At first he paused, his lips pulling back and muzzle wrinkling up in disgust - of all the wolves that could have made an appearance, why a behemoth of a woman? But slowly he began to grin to himself, seeing an opportunity to do something of interest. He wouldn't be sure precisely what sort of fun he'd have until he got there, but he knew it would be better than the peace and quiet he'd been enjoying. Too long he'd been away from chaos, and although the break was nice, he was drawn to discord and turmoil like a moth to flame. He couldn't stop himself, no matter how much he'd felt at ease spending time by himself. So he approached the woman, casting his singular blue eye upon her as his shoulders rolled and hips swayed with each step. "What brings a woman such as yourself to this... odorous place?" he rasped in question, his long and lushious tail whipping back and forth.
He couldn't wait to see how she responded, ready for whatever reaction she gave.