lost to the hunt as I was to you; any

[Daemron]

Daemron moves through the dense forest with singular purpose as he tracks down the one who awaited him. Although she was still some distance away, he becomes increasingly aware of her every move. With each step that brings him closer, it’s almost as if were wearing her very skin as his own. He can feel her large ears twisting this way and that to catch the squawks of jays, the chirps of sparrows. The rhythm of breath drawn between sharp teeth becomes his breath. He notices the ruffle of black hackles when a fly lands upon a narrow shoulder and echoes the snap of her jaw when she twists to bite at it in annoyance. When he finally does reach her, the selfsame growl that rolls off her lolling tongue rumbles past his throat, too. The maned wolf had been lying in the shade of a beech tree, dark limbs gathered beneath her – but at his appearance she gets to her feet and pads toward him. Shaking out ruddy fur, she looks up at him with keen eyes that glint meaningfully. “You’re sure?” He asks in low tones, lowering his willowed head to her level. A scathing huff answers him, but he pushes her side with his nose and mutters, “We need to be sure. I’m not about to risk whatever it is that false hope would do to her.” Red only bares her teeth in a wolfish scowl. Somewhat cross with the dog’s apparent contempt for his skepticism, Daemron’s grey gaze tightens – but he says nothing more and instead turns about, a growing expectation taking root in his thoughts. daemron lost to the hunt as I was to you