Grovel

Ardhel sat near the edge of a cliff. It was so peaceful here. Since it was winter Ardhel's fur had turned form ashen grey to white, the colour of the snow that was newly cast from the heavens, a brilliant, pure white. Ardhel loved it here, watching the waves crash on the cliffs below was peaceful, soothing. She could lose herself staring at the deep blue water. She liked sitting near the edge of the cliff, flirting with death. The snow had come on, but she was fine, her coat had thickened out for winter. Her pelf was as soft as silk, running your hand through it felt like running your hand through water, soft, cool and merciless.

The woman first saw the wolf while strolling through the snow. She had a dark pelt and had scars across her muzzle. She wore a skull on her head, like a war prize. Ardhel crouched down, unseen by the female. She was not scared of this wolf, who wore this skull like a crown. She was brave, she was naive. She stalked into full sight. Daring the female to challenge her.