A Story of Marble and Ice

ORWYND
everyone who isn't me is an enemy

Orwynd was blindingly aware he was not alone when the thick musk of a male tainted the crisp air that had before this moment only smelled of dirt and snow. The wolf halted his movements and craned his head to the right, eyes almost immediately landing on the dark form that contrasted against the snow. Fuck, he’s big. He thought, judging the stranger’s size by comparison of a nearby boulder. Orwynd let out a gentle bark. Acknowledgment. I see you.

The company of both male and female were equally welcome to the wolf as he closed the distance between them. Surely this stranger had heard his call and that’s why he was here. Right? Orwynd paused when he was several yards away. Close enough to converse, far enough to dance out of harm’s way should the stranger become aggressive. The wolf’s nose wriggled to and fro as he implanted the male’s scent into his subconscious, remembering. “It’s a night like this that makes you long for a mate, doesn’t it?” He spoke curiously, tilting his head slightly. Orwynd let a sly smile upturn the corners of his lips. “Or anybody.” The male had no qualms of swinging both ways and no shame in it either. Comfort was comfort, pleasure was pleasure. The source was nuance.