She glances up before she raises her fine head. Looks up from beneath her lashes, her eyes shrewd and sharp, her mouth still wet with the icy water that darkens the tip of her nose. It is obvious, to her at least, that the wolf who comes to the water is not what it seems. Perhaps it is the way that it pads up to the water with no fear of the creature in it and no innate hunger shining from his angled eyes.
And the suspicion is confirmed quickly when he shifts.
This form is even more striking than the wolf before it.
She does not let such praise reach her eyes though. Does not react at all to the way that it smiles and snarls and then studies her from his blue eyes. Finally, she lifts her head, the water dripping down into the water that curls around her thin legs—a promise of some deeper current that does not reach her here.
“Hello,” she says with a simper, with a smile that curls just the edges of her lips but does not quite reach her almond eyes. “I do not mind being cold,” it is not quite the truth, but it is not quite a lie either. There are worst things than being cold, she knows. Worse things than the icy water that bites into her flesh.
She could walk to the shore now, but she doesn’t—not yet.
“Do you mind?” she calls to him, and even she is not certain whether it is a challenge or an invitation.
but in all chaos, there is calculation