What Happens in the Altar ...

Though he had meant to increase the intensity between them, wanting to create an aura of unpredictability with a foreboding hint of danger, Aurelia didn’t give him the reaction he craved. She became stern in response to his tormenting, stating he knew nothing of her gods, but wouldn’t hold it against him. As if she knew something about the afterlife that he didn’t. As if she were withholding crucial information, and treating him as lesser because of it. The softening of her expression and the wink that followed tried to make it seem like playful banter. But Sephiran didn’t perceive it that way. He felt insulted. As if she thought these gods were better than him.

The noise that bubbled from his throat was a guttural, low-sounding growl that rose in tone as it morphed into a snarl. He bared his fangs at her, eyes narrowing as his ears fell flat against his skull. “You believe them to be superior?” He questioned, peering down at her, wanting to make her feel small. “Tell me, Aurelia,” Her name dripped like venom from his maw, as he attempted to take a step closer. The sections of his pelt above the water bristled down his nape, as his tail rose out of the water. “What will they do to save you from demons like me?” Without warning he suddenly lunged forward, jaws splayed as he snapped in her direction, wanting to grab her by the side of her neck. If she had been observing his body language, she may have been able to avoid the attack, given her small size and speed. But if she chose to stand her ground and fight, Sephiran would take what he wanted.

"Speech"