this desert rose has thorns

Valentine was taking a vacation. He had skillfully abandoned his skunk somewhere far away and then booked it across Boreas as fast as his legs could carry him. And, properly motivated, his old legs could still get up and go just fine. It had been about a week since he'd seen Lefty and the solitude felt nice. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to wake up breathing fresh air. Even his trek across the desert was proving pleasant considering the fact that it was, ya know, a desert. Basically, what he'd learned so far was that life was better when it was skunk-free. He made a note to double his efforts to kill her in her sleep when he got home.

His eyes lit on a dark blob ghosting across the dunes and swiftly heading towards him. Under the oasis' lone palm tree was a scraggly patch of scrubby grass. Valentine had taken refuge among them for the night. Laying down they covered him in shadow. It wasn't much but honestly he was just happy he didn't have to spoon that little black and white gas bag. He'd take whatever scorpion was sure to cozy up to him in the night over Lefty any day.

Valentine's ears pricked forward as the dark shape bent to get a drink. The hood slid back to reveal the unmistakable slender lines of a beautifully feminine face. As he was wont to do Valentine was immediately smitten. He could see a dusting of red across her face like freckles and that was what made him decide to dust off his manners and poke at this novel, beautiful thing in the hopes she'd bite. He would take any sort of bite from her. Literally. She could probably actually bite and he'd find a way to make it work for him. "Funny how in a wide open barren desert an oasis just brings wolves together." He stretched so that his forelegs and nose poked out from between the grasses and the woman could get a look at him.