wrap me in thorns

Pink paw pads carried a slender form through the thicket. A gentle midnight breeze swept across pale tendrils. Hannibal's jaws were parted to allow scents to flow onto his needy tongue. Pack Wolves were all that he sensed as well as prey. With a gentle exhale the male trotted towards the lakes with casual ease. The male's eyes were narrowed as he swept past high shrubs and low hanging branches. As of late his physical form was healing well and he was getting back his figure. Muscles were packed beneath pink skin. Thanks to his sister, Luc, his upper back scabs were doing much better.

The Hand finally reached the brim of the lake with a roll of his shoulders. Immediately he lowered down to gently lap at the water. Drops of water flung from his jowls as eyes darted across the dark water. All he could see were the ripples he made in the water and the reflection of the high moon. Hannibal's gaze lifted upward to gaze at the sky before wet jaws parted to let forth a gentle song of summon. The male wished to catch up with Rosemary and wanted to practice at something they were both fluent in.. fighting.