Dueling chieftans slip o'er rambles o' plumes, tumulting towards third vixen's position. Ivory canines bared at third approach, a'fore enlightenment creased o'er elven's mind . . . so she had followed? Pelt released tension, rippling with subdued chords of muscles, anxiety fled in the face o' something darker than himself . . . intrigue stepped forth as reverent mascu issued parched note. A shadow of his thoughts, a temptation of his will, for all would fall of it's command . . .

Or so the domineering soul believed

Threads o' shimmering argent slithered across taut quarters, his agenda had disappeared at her appearance. Powerful limbs erupted upon leached terra, dust spewing from catastrophic actions . . . insicors bared at intrada of dangerous femme. For with her came a sense of redemption, something which he feared more than the dawn itself. Quailing internal composure slackened, hardening patriarch's soul. Or did he have claim to a soul? Doubt lay hidden beneath lithe stature, for he killed without emotion, or remorse. A hiss perhaps heard in the femme's mind, or perhaps born away upon the wind

Il est, oui . . . mais non plus noir que ce que vous apportez avec vous.

Take no chances with the unknown . . .

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