The dark wolf smiled back at Choumi, and she positively beamed in response. Her mutism and her limitation to this form, locked away from familiar lands or her human shape, was a lonely affair. This brief moment of connection, of joy, was a much-needed reprieve from living across an invisible chasm from everyone.
The large wolf rolled to his paws, dipping into a playbow. Choumi held her own for a moment, before rising to her full height and lightly shaking her pelt. It meant she was distracted, enough for the shadow to reach close and brush his teeth against her ear in a playful nip. Choumi rumbled in her chest, all playful gruffness, before the man darted away from her.
From the chased to the hunter - a role reversal she took to with enthusiasm. The small sable woman leapt into action, her paws crunching against the snow as she sought to keep up with the dark shape that wove through the frosted wisteria branches.
