Crimson Casanova

Though the male typically stood alert and on guard against even the slightest motion or scent, his mind was far too engrossed in the idea of a good meal to pay much attention to the nearby female until she made her presence known. He was hungry, and he needed to eat; the presence of a female wasn't about to sway his motives for being here. For now, the only scent he paid attention to was the scent of the young fawn he had so recently downed.

However, as Lova stepped towards him, his head shot up with an instinctive low growl. Interrupted in the middle of his meal, he was fully prepared to defend himself and his meal; he had learned not to go judging books by their covers, and though this wold was female, he did not mark her off as a threat. She was as large as him, if not even a tad bigger, though not by a significant amount. He didn't doubt that she'd put up a decent fight if it came down to it; for now he hoped intimidation may keep her from trying much.

A light snort of disgruntled humor came from his bloodied muzzle at her words, ears swiveling slightly at the strange, foreign accent her voice carried. ?Hmph. You smell like a pack wolf, surely they can feed you.? he commented. Her scent was clear, though the scent of others muffled it. He didn't doubt she lived among many others. Yes, she was a rather pretty female, and her accent was slightly intriguing, but a fawn was hardly a good meal for one wolves; it was a mere snack when shared between two. He hadn't eaten in days and with winter coming, he wasn't quite sure when his next meal might be. At least this woman belonged to a group and could likely be provided for; he, however, was on his own and relied only on the meals he could catch himself. During the winter, most of the prey a single wolf could catch moved on, replaced by elk and moose. Unless he could grab a calf, he'd likely be living off rabbits for longer than he liked to think.

?Besides,? the brute added, ?Not like you're some helpless little dame. Just as capable of hunting for yourself as I am; the herd scattered north, help yourself.? he muttered before returning to his meal, tail lightly flicking behind him. His ears remained alert, listening in case she chose to advance closer to him, not fond of the idea of her attacking for his meal while he ate. Should she choose to, he'd certainly be ready; he was far from weak, and he was of decent size. He wouldn't go giving up his meal without a fight for it, though his meal was already half gone.


Word Count: 472