Trickling down the vines

m é l i s a n d e
 

the wind was bleak, nipping at her sides as she hurried through Auster with a brisk trot. galloping over foliage that crunched beneath her tiny paws, marching forward until she arrived at the grapevine. on the search for some grapes, she caught the scent of someone present further ahead. a naturally friendly fae, she was inclined to greet the stranger.
stepping ahead out of the shaded thickets, melisande spotted the large alabaster brute. he was scarred and held contrasting markings of black with beady orange eyes. a fine wolf but his demeanor was questionable. she stood, pausing near him now with a slightly tilted head, denoting her confusion. "A-are you okay sir?" she glanced at him then the squashed bits of grapes that littered beside him. ahh.. wine. "You are intoxicated I presume?" she was mannered with a soft, effeminate voice.

"talk" "think"