Tickle Me Pretty

Fugue found himself raising an amused brow at her antics, finding it difficult to feign disinterest for the female. He knew he had smelled no scent markings on the territory, none that were recent and definitely none that were hers. She was not a pack wolf and yet she carried herself with an air of importance that told him she was not an ordinary rogue.

Perhaps she is the leader of a nomad pack. Perhaps a mother?

She carries no scent of family and does not appear to have ever carried pups.

Maybe the fox is her slave, or servant of sorts. Maybe there are others like it.

Perhaps she is as mad as you are!

Auburn auds swiveled in the direction of the steaming crater, his attention on both the femme and the mountain that could be the demise of the land. His nerves were calm, but his mind raged on through possibilities, images, and likely scenarios. He had to keep his wits about him. Yet the woman claimed to live on such dangerous terra. She had to be mad.

"It is not often one finds a wolf living on volcanic grounds, though I can see how you must love the view and the space it offers. I can't imagine any predators would dare venture close to its mouth." She was rather intelligent in that respect. The fox truly must have had a good reason for following her around, not only for the threat of the mountain but for the threat of the wolf herself. Fugue absentmindedly flicked a small pebble in the lady's direction, recalling the view from the crater rim.

"Your mountain seemed to call me on this day, Princess. May have been a mistake in the wind, or maybe it was fate. Didn't seem like much of a fault in meeting you here, though." His eyes twinkled at that, and he rose to his feet and brushed softly past her, his curiosoty getting the better of him as his eyes met those of the male fox once more. He took a step towards the canine and stopped.

"Who is your...friend?"