The landscape was not to remain devoid of wolves for long. A silky-furred black pelt graced the wintery terrain, popping up out of the foliage as if appearing by magic. Loki, though by nature craving of attention, often sought solitude when the pathetic mewling of lesser wolves began to grate on his nerves, and what better place to find solitude than atop a mountain? And he was not immune to the charm of the place, a stark beauty combined of wintery rock cliffs and rushing waterfall.
He too had built a thirst climbing the mountain, and made his graceful way toward the icy water. Before he had touched tongue to water, a stray wind carried an unusual scent his way, drawing his gaze. A momentary blank astonishment filled his acid green eyes at the sight of the big cat. He'd never seen a cougar before, though he quickly recognized her from stories he'd heard while in his former pack.
He was quick to regain his control, however, and with narrow eyes deliberately returned to his drink. He had no fear of the magnificent beast, only caution. And magnificent she was, powerful and sleek in a way he'd never before encountered in another creature. He made no effort to silence his movements, allowing the big cat to deduce his presence if she had not already.
