Roan exhaled sharply as he lowered a hefty elk leg to the ground beside the crackling fire. The scent of charred meat mingles with the earthy smell of damp moss and wood smoke. Why in the seven hells were you eyeing him thus? Hadn't he just wrenched a mountain lion's jaws apart to keep you safe? And hauled back a hearty meal to fill your bellies? Not to mention the display of his honed muscles, glistening with sweat beneath the sun's rays. That was the tried-and-true way to make a mate swoon or so his people's old tales proclaimed.

A low rumble sounded in his broad chest as he settled his brawny frame onto the chill earth and the cold dirt puffs up around his furs. Roan cocked his head, gazing at you with a mix of bewilderment and mild consternation in his piercing caramel eyes - much like a befuddled bear cub, all wide-eyed innocence and unspoken questions.

"Mate... eat?" he rumbled out, his deep voice tinged with a hint of perplexity. The fire pops and crackles between you, casting dancing shadows across his rugged features. Surely you must see the worth in a man who could fight off beasts and feed you well? The way of his ancestors with the old blood-rite of strength and provision should have set your heart aflutter.