lost to the hunt as I was to you; any

[Daemron]

Having spent most of her life in the presence of both Daemron and Pyxis, Red was little cause for concern to the stranger who suddenly comes into view. Yet while she was accustomed to horses, the maned wolf was both tired and hungry and in no mood for company – and so the canine turns at the sound of rustling underbrush and snarls menacingly. The sound reverberates through the muffled glen as Daemron glances over to the mare who had suddenly gone quite still. Though he was anxious to get back to Pyxis, his wolf’s aggravated behaviour only serves to irritate him. With some chagrin, he sighs and steps between the dog and the mare with oddly tattooed shoulders. “It’s not you, trust me.” Red’s tail twitches, long ears laid flat against her angular skull as she peers under his legs at the intruder. She, too, was anxious to be gone – if only to fill her belly. After days gone without a single hunt, she was in a particularly bad way. Growling again, this time the wolf expresses her impatience by lunging forward to snap at a white hock. He knew it was coming – he could feel it in her thoughts – and in the split second before she could sink her teeth into him, the chestnut stallion pitches the targeted hind leg in a well-aimed kick instead. Just as he could sense her intent, so the wolf could sense his own. Too quick, she narrowly avoids the blow, reeling back and shaking out her hackles at him. She huffs as Daemron continues to block her way from the other woman. Of course, she wouldn’t have truly harmed the stranger – but, given the mare’s obvious trepidation, Red might have appeased her black mood by causing Rey at least a little scare. Daemron knew this, too – and finally his annoyance with the dog’s sour disposition became too great. “Go, then,” he rumbles, “Find us later. Preferably with a full stomach and in better humor.” The wolf’s eyes turn to slits, but after a last glare she wheels and slinks away into the murky depths; jowls open, tail twitching. Daemron watches her go before he turns his grey gaze to meet the stranger’s own. By way of explanation, he utters a single word. “Wolves.” It is said with some contempt, though in many ways he is more like them than he would ever be to his own kind. daemron lost to the hunt as I was to you