Any vestige of control Dread had, slips. Getting a mouth full of bioluminescent fur, more than he'd usually intentionally take on, he can feel the tingle in his mouth. His tongue itches and his mouth waters. She's proud, and that's all the more fun. Something sinister coloring the edges, though Dread's vision is still centered on the woman he loves. Centered on her, trained on her. His. Deluge is his.
Her shoulder thrown into him, but Dread won't be shaken loose. He makes to grapple the girl, to hold her. Yank her as near as he can. His teeth looking for her scruff, harder than he'd normally bite her. Proving a point. As she speaks, Dread growls. Aiming to make use of his minor weight advantage, a better fighter than he's ever let on when it comes to her. "Didn't think I'd have to spell it out," he's breathless, fighting to maintain control over the girl. Grip tightening, Dread's voice dropping low as he speaks. "You're. Mine." Cadence clear. Possessive. All teeth and sharp edges, he's alight.
Bard
