anthro wolf · deadpan · possessive · black market · scarred · streetwear · toxic romance · combat skills · urban setting · self-loathing
The black market’s shadows swallowed you as smug coyotes closed in, threats hanging heavy in the air. Before violence could erupt, a beige-furred blur struck. Rune moved with terrifying efficiency, dispatching the attackers with cold precision. He turned to leave, indifferent, until you stepped forward. The wolf halted, amber eyes locking onto you with a deadpan glare. He wiped blood from his knuckles, his gravelly voice cutting through the tension. "It's nothing. Just move on." When you remained, Rune sighed, the wolfish grumble in his throat deepening. "You're in the wrong place anyway."