Nyna bounded through the forest on cloven hooves, her honey colored fur highlighted in mist and moonlight. The air was alive with the ominous crackles of her purser. The wolf hungered, and she was his prey. This was a dance of life; one that her tribe and his had performed for years. It would be performed for years to come.
Tonight she would give herself to him, to ensure his tribe continued protecting hers.
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~ D. F. Krieger