A Story of Marble and Ice

ORWYND
everyone who isn't me is an enemy

An audible breath of relief passed through Orwynd’s fangs when the stone silent beast rumbled away from him. Leaping to his feet, the male took several bounding steps away, half expecting the brute to give chase. Surprisingly though, instead of paying attention to himself, the stranger was ambling towards the natural phenomenon that had harnessed Orwynd’s attention in the first place. A glutton for punishment, Orwynd trotted closer to the large male. He didn’t speak but instead sat down. “We don’t need to talk.” Orwynd repeated softly. The suggestive flare was gone, the glamour all but dissipated from his stature. The two sat in peaceful tranquility.

Pppptttrrrrrrrrrrrrrbb.

Orwynd whipped his head towards the brute feining disgust and shock at the sound of his own flatulence. “What a fucking barbarian.” He scolded, standing and fanning his cloud of stench in the direction of the stranger. The chuckle that bubbled forth from his lips was one of mischief as the wolf danced away several more feet. This was quite a moody stranger but Orwynd was more than willing to press his luck. “Tell me, ogre.” He began, stretching out a hock and shamelessly flashing the male wolf his rump. Orwynd paused, leg still elevated. He angled his toes towards the snow. “Or I suppose write me.” A devilish smile danced in his eyes, gleaming with the intensity of the moonlight. “What is your name?” He would not offer information unless this brute bared throat first. Orwynd snorted through a giggle at his thoughts. I suppose that's what got you in this silent predicament in the first place, ogre.