He was almost tempted to claim her for Ashen, with her soft blue coat and bright eyes, Deathbelle would be sure to be pleased with such a gift. Of course, he was a slave himself and it was not his place to decide who the pack might call their own. He would presume too much. Instead, he simply allowed his curiosity to take the better of him, as he invited the wolf closer.
He was amused when she confirmed her right to inspect him, and he gave his head a short, brisk nod. The closer she came, the more their height difference became stark and obvious. He almost laughed out loud when the wolf was directly before him -she was almost half his height!
With the excitement of a pup, she pushed herself into his personal space, but the man barely blinked. He was a slave, and he was accustomed to having the rights to no things, and some masters had a habit of pushing themselves too close to comfort well they threatened their slaves.
He lowered his head slightly, so she might inspect them even closer. The saber-toothed fangs where thick, long and sharp. If she touched the end of them, she just might draw blood. “I am a guard, and have been in my fair share of battles” he said, giving away very little of the truth with his words.
Bloodletter
