The smells, too...oh, the smells! With this nose of hers, she can smell a gnat's fart from miles away, and pressing her snout into a patch of grass is the equivalent of opening a Helovian newsletter and turning straight to the gossip pages. Who knew that Joe bled from a deep wound right here after a lost battle? Who knew that sniffing Sue's piss could reveal that she'd had Bob's dick an hour earlier? Who knew that a whiff of the air can tell her that another wolf is ripe and ready for fertilisation in the next realm? She doesn't swing that way, so it's of little interest that a female wolf is in the mood for some dong, but it's nice to know that she can keep up to date with what's happening in the lupine and equine worlds simply by plunging her nose into every patch of foliage she comes across.

Suddenly her head lifts, her nostrils flaring. Something has happened here....Oizys lopes forwards, following the scent, until she reaches a patch of ground that seems rather....moist. Frowning, she lowers her snout and takes a good long sniff...ah. "Eurgh." It's spunk, jizz, seed, semen. Somebody's been misbehaving! The odour sends an odd frisson of something to the girl's quivering thighs - she's not had a heat yet, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious.... She can almost smell the pleasure in the air, the salty tang of somebody's ball-contents mingled with sweat and exertion. It is the smell of sex, and it is unmistakable regardless of which species she inhabits.

Then, there's another smell too. It's familiar, a childhood memory flared into life courtesy of the olfactory heaven that she finds herself in, and it doesn't take long for her to put two and two together. "Ugh, Kid, really?" The thought of her childhood frenemy doing that is almost enough to make her lunch reappear, and her wolf's face twists into an expression of abject disgust as she can't help but picture it. She is, of course, blissfully unaware that the pink-eyed boy doesn't bend the way she thinks he does; that he's had a man rather than a woman here. No, the gargoyle-wolf thinks of none of this, simply turning her stride towards him and following his scent upon eager paws.

She might be rather fond of the insulting piece of shit, but that doesn't mean she's not entitled to frighten the ass off him. If he can be frightened - he's probably too chilled out in post-coital bliss. Taking to the undergrowth, Oizys slinks along through the foliage until she emerges in front of the colt who is now a stallion, baring her teeth and snarling savagely as she darts towards him. She looks all the world like a predator, a lone wolf ready to take her chances upon this wandering piece of lone prey...until her jaws split into a grin and, with a hideous cacophony of pained snarls and breaking bones, she shifts back into her horse form.

Shaking off the detritus of the forest snagged in her mane, Oizys fixes her cold grey eyes on Kid. She's outgrown him, their size difference even more evident in adulthood than it was in foalhood. He's well-built enough, short and stocky and probably quite attractive to the more discerning women of the world. "I see you've been busy," remarks the gargoyle with a knowing smirk and a tantalising lifted eyebrow. "I never pegged you as a stud. Was she blind, then, or just desperate?" This, after all, is how they communicate - via the medium of insult.