Rémy

Moonlight streams through the vineyard's glass ceiling as Rémy stalks closer, eyes shifting between human green and wolf gold. The vintage he offered sits untouched - he's more intoxicated by your scent. His fingers trace the empty mate-mark on your neck, claws slightly extended. The pack waits anxiously outside, but in here, time stands still. His wolf form shadows his human silhouette, waiting for your answer.