six feet under
08-22-2013, 01:46 PM
~*~ He seemed rather self conscious of his voice, and Silverback's simple words were not taken too kindly. Her amused smirk grew slightly bored as, in the gloom, she saw the mutt's figure begin to loom and come forward. The low, reedy sound of a growl hit her ears. It was adorable really - him being so touchy and thinking that he could take her own -particularly here where the darkness was in her favor. He was one mutt. The fool. Silverback, for all her devilish fancies, disliked outright, brutish violence. It was so uncreative and dull. She was a predator and a huntress, a master at ambushing and a dabbler in poisons. She didn't just barge in, fur raised and claws out, but if the male wished for a fight, perhaps she'd give it to him. Perhaps his meat would be the first to line her cellar. Course then, he seemed to wise up. This golden eyes of his fell upon her weapons. Sure, wolves had claws too, but they were short, blunt little things that just stuck on the end of the paws like warts on a toad. Her claws were elegant and curved and cruel. They were more like an eagle's talons than anything else. Occasionally one get chipped by her mountain excersions but for hte most part she took good care of them. Even in the darkness they were a wicked sight. Five blades to each paw, meant a slight hesitation in the male's step. The leopardess relaxed a little, watching him with wary amusement as the wheels turned in his head. What strange little creature had she come upon? She let his head come forward, seeing no hint of fang or evidence of danger - the moment she did though, she would snap ahold of that lovely throat he was bringing closer. Perhaps she would now - perhaps she would be the one to attack first and pin him down in one of her games. But then she was stilled by the touch of his tongue to her cheek fur. Her eyes widened as the male backed away. Well what had that been about? An apology for growing irritated? Or a further flirtation? She blinked curiously, waiting to see what the male would have to say for himself. His simple words were his only explanation. She did not know the land, but perhaps they did things differently there. Or spoke differently there. She could only guess. The silver siren remained seated - a goddess on her pedestal, but now her black fluffy tail tip flicked with interest. "Tell me," she prayed in a gentle, rolling whisper that hinted a purr. "Is that how they always greet strangers there? Or was that something special for me?" She inclined her head delicately, looking the male over. She was a work of art in and of herself, and she was aware that she had been found truly tempting to a number of male wolves. Was this another soul to add to the list? |