so sharpen your teeth

Look how the gathering dead flocked to her, this agent of chaos. The blue sheen of her fur and the ghostly cerulean gaze made her the perfect concubine for spirits and ghouls. Her slithering form came ever closer, bobbing and weaving in eerie fashion. She was suddenly quite close, all but nose to nose with him. Her nostrils flared to take in his scent, absorb the aroma of his intoxicants. The hiss of a deadly creature bled from her jaws. "Those Swamps are taken." she warned. Who was she to claim a conduit to the spirits? They were so limited, after all. Someone ought to teach this little witch that there were others who played these games.

A low growl rumbled deep in his narrow chest, trembling in his rib cage. Jaws would part before thought could seek to impede, and he lunged forth in a display of serpentine grace and lithe musculature. Ebony jaws snaking forward in an attempt to clamp down on her snout. The leathery flesh of her nose would be the softest, the easiest to tear away and devour. Perhaps her spilled blood would invite the spirits closer.

speech