we crawl

"You have disturbed the forest," his voice would call out, for her. As a warning. "And you care, beeecause?" The words would fall easily from her lips, almost as a challenge to the male. There were no distinct scent markers here, including none of this land to be his. "Are you going to do anything about it, sweetheart?" Sarcasm would lace her lyrics, poison dripping from her tone.

She would appear out from behind the trees, her stance held high as her tail swayed in the air, ears perked forward. "Seems as if we got off on the wrong.. Paw," she would say lifting her own, taking a step closer to him. "Salutations, stranger. I'm Anzhelika Zinaida Rusakov," she would say with a dip of her crown.

"And you are?" She would ask, raising her topaz and amethyst audits to meet his golden ones.