as twisted as I am, twist me more

My, he’d certainly struck a cord of anger inside of the woman. The glimmer of lust faded from her rosy eyes, replaced with a sharp narrow of malice as she glared at him. Her pelt bristled, standing erect down a curvaceous frame, her lips pulling back into a sneer that made her aggravation known. Not one for rejection, it seems. Still, Rhazien would not falter in his stance, his shoulders still rolled forward, that charming smile pulling at his lips exuding his confidence. Even with the tension building between them, palpable and thick in the air, he possesses a magnetic charisma that is meant to captivate the woman.

And she was hurt alright; she voiced it aloud, hissing at him through clenched teeth, venomous words meant to pierce his flesh and straight into his heart. So much hatred over something so meaningless. Rhazien’s head cocks slightly, his eyes tracing her movements, focusing his gaze on her admits a blur of their surroundings. He’s noticing the subtle changes in her body language; the tensing of muscles, coiled with power, every fiber taut with anticipation and keenly attuned with the anger coursing through her. He may have been a playboy, but Rhazien was also a warrior. He wouldn’t miss the opportunity to partake in bloodshed, and he knew the signs of an impending attack well.

Still, there is a flash of doubt in his mind. Will this woman really attack him? The internal musing has just echoed in his mind, when the woman suddenly erupts from her position, crossing the border and entering the domain of heathens. She’s pulling a mask over her face, front limbs raising and extending forward and Rhazien only has a few seconds to react. Her paws are wrapping around him, hugging him while her claws dig into the thick grizzly bear hide he wears over his coat for battle. In the same breath, he throws his shoulder forward, trying to meet the force of her attack head-on, wanting to disrupt her balance given she’d wavering on her two back legs. He's aiming for the center of her chest, to knock the wind from her lungs.

And as her jaws splay, his follow in sync, countering her by snapping at her face as he attempts to clash their mouths together. His fangs are plated with serrated obsidian steel; it protects them from breaking or chipping in the assault. But the woman? She’s got a mask concealing her face, but her jaws and fangs are fair game.  

"Speech"