Have a Little Fun

Maverick hadn't known what to expect from the serious woman when she had dove from the cliff, or when she resurfaced, but if the smirk on her lips was any indication, he felt like he'd accomplished something today. The poor lady looked like she hadn't had a good time for a while. He watched while she climbed gracefully back onto land, not even being shy about the way his intrigued turquoise eyes took an appreciative glance over her drenched form. Her black and white fur clung to her voluptuous form in all the right ways, save for a patch behind her shoulders which he only realized as she came closer were rigid and looked more like porcupine quills than fur. Of course, ever the quick and roguish brute he was, by the time Venom had made it up the path to him, his interested eyes had stopped roving her body and simply held her twilight gaze with a crooked smile as she approached him.

The she-wolf introduced herself as Venom. Venom Abraxas Klein. "That's quite a name, Miss Venom," he remarked with a flabbergasted expression, chuckling to himself under his breath in rough tones. She asked who he was in turn, and with a sweeping wave of his paw and an exaggerated bow, he introduced himself. "Maverick Rhydderech. Or just Mav. Actually, just Mav or Maverick." He looked up at her with a devilish gleam in his eyes as he added, "Sorry, just Mav or Maverick, please." Mav generally wasn't a fan of using his full name, or his last name at all. It felt too formal, too stuffy. He liked his first name, however. It was synonymous with danger, and adventure, and scandal, and fun! Every spice of life he enjoyed thoroughly.

"So does a royal lady like yourself make it a habit of policing your borders so thoroughly?" he asked, rising to his paws as he began to look for a way to tie the rope to the branches permanently now that he knew his swing worked. Then anyone could use it without needing to trouble the surly wolves that lived in the nearby pack. "Or do you just make an exception for handsome strangers who are still technically in wild lands?" He shot her another tooth grin from over his shoulder while deft paws began to work knots around the limbs, testing them with a few tugs as he finished each one. He was letting Venom know that he had indeed heard her and understood she had some standing with the pack they were bordering—hell, the borders were literally made of her scent—he'd just simply disregarded her authority since he wasn't within her jurisdiction.