A noise entirely unique to the savage world of feral things caused his ears to swivel to a black crown atop his broad head. Gabriel was a creature of a unique build, pulling from minor strands of heretic influence that had ultimately damned this woman’s son. His body was pulled from the wolf, but it was compact and well-muscled. No part of him seemed very graceful in its construction, and this was appropriate. He was a beast made for war and ruin, not the elegance that so opposed him in the woman he now approached.
It would seem to a stranger that these two would forever be in opposition. Alaine was lithe and fair, and Gabriel dark and obstinate. Yet the Aquila approached her as he might a dear friend, offering a tail-wag of reassurance as he read the nervous display in her dainty frame. A few whiffs of her scent, taken as he lowered his head to greet her, told him what he had suspected. Ezekiel was with her, though his son was nowhere to be seen. “Hello Alaine,” the amber eyed hybrid said almost warmly. Her anxiousness worried him, and this was why he did not touch her yet.
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