A Story of Marble and Ice

ORWYND
everyone who isn't me is an enemy

The look of bewilderment could’ve been easily read from a quarter of a mile away and was rather pronounced at 10 yards. Orwynd couldn’t help but snicker at the male’s reaction. He was no stranger to unwelcome reactions to his strong advances. The wolf shrugged, “How do you know if you like the fruit at the top of the tree if you haven’t eaten the bark on the way up?” Ears perked forward for a response, but the only rebuttal was a rather angry look.

Orwynd snorted and planted his rump on the ground. “The fuck’s wrong with your face, bud?” Now it was Orwynd that was confused. Where was the berating voice that this brute surely owned? In fact, the wolf was rather eager to hear what rugged chords would spring from a creature such as burly as he. But no, this stranger did not speak. He didn’t even growl. The moon cast a rather frightening looking shadow across the beast’s snarling expression. The landscape of snow and haunting darkness added to the powerful facade. Nonetheless, it was not fear that Orwynd felt. It was interest. Unfazed by the blatant sign of aggression, he took several steps forward. Orwyd was not stupid and quickly deduced what was taking place on this night. “Can you speak?” He tilted his head and let a smug grin slide across his muzzle. “Or are you the purposeful strong silent type?” A mischievous wag of his tail scraped at the snow Orwynd sat upon. “We don’t need to talk if that's what you're getting at.” He offered this more as an annoyance than a seductive suggestion. While Orwynd's posture was relaxed and non-threatening, his muscles were coiled tight in the event that this large beast attacked him.