Aoves had become quite proud of the little inferno at her folded knees; she aggravating the flame with the occasional poke of a stick, a fiery tongue lashing out each and every time. The flames were beautiful in a fearsome way, and she found her eyes glazing as she admired the violent spurts into the air - staring into the phoenix hues was far more interesting than ogling her own feet, at the very least. The entity of the wind was growing more and more indecisive, tugging the flames to and fro in a haphazard dance. Such movement only added dimension to the depth of the flame though, the shadows crackling impishly in their dance, each wave of warmth putting her further at ease.
A fiercer gust suddenly rocketed from behind her, in its intensity threatening to consume the flames, causing them to waver pitifully before their life returned. It wasn't the shock of the chill that caused her back to go rigid with surprise however, it was the scent that it carried. Her nose tilted immediately into the air, trying to catch the vanishing trail, but the wind had already snatched the scent away. Canine, and more than likely male was all she could tell, the rest was left a mystery.
The woman craned her head in the direction from whence the scent had come, her weight slipping onto an arm as her eyes peered into the shadow. Lo and behold, a lupine silhouette was making its way over to her. Her first response was, as always, to preen, partially unsheathed claws running through her hair as a make-shift comb. As her hands ran hurriedly through the curls, her thoughts wandered absentmindedly to whether or not the stranger would even care, or if they were friendly at all. Now that would be a shame. After all, the only thing worse than a cold night, was a cold night with cold company.
Her grooming was destined to matter little, for the wind again saw fit to again harass the careful arrangement of her mane, carrying out its mischief just as the stranger neared the threshold of the fires glow. She was surely the more visible one, her own figure bathed in the flames illumination. He still only appeared as a slightly more defined silhouette, some speckles on his coat visible in the shadow; his eyes no more than mirrors flashing in the light.
A hand flew to her hair in a last attempt to suppress it, her lips also parting in a simple "Bonsoir" before closing, more interested in fully perceiving his form than appearing amicable for the moment. The word was spoken in the general warmth of her alto, but it's inflection was hesitant; the dame uncertain of whether or not it should be something besides welcoming and friendly. She was alone, the night was dark - a girl couldn't always afford to be too welcoming, or so she reasoned.
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