If Walls Could Speak

A low, rumbling growl of amusement slipped past his lips, "I'm game if you are," he retorted, seeing her leap towards him. His eyes narrowed in anticipation; he was ravenous for this kind of challenge. And what a challenge she was, lionhearted scarlet fae. His nails flexed into the soft earth beneath him, his muscles cording in readiness. As she lunged, he moved to step aside, his motions fluid and quick. Of course he didn’t dodge the entirety of her attack, the contact of her jaws against his skin causing a sharp adrenaline rush to surge through his veins. There was an immediate reaction from his strong body, his muscles tensing upon impact. His heart pounded against his chest, his senses heightened by the sheer thrill of the encounter.

Unpredictable, raw, and wild - that was the art of their exchange. He refused to back down from her, as he attempted to retaliate with his own barred fangs, aiming for her flank in a non-permanent but firm counter. The tearing of his flesh, the taste of blood, it was a heady, intoxicating mix that sent his adrenaline into overdrive. His pupils dilated with the thrill, the sheer visceral delight of it as he felt her fur against his tongue and teeth. The pungent taste of blood flooded his senses, any lingering thoughts wiped clean from his mind. Gods he needed release.

An animalistic grow l burst from his chest, reverberating through the forest The taste of her blood was a sweet, intoxicating elixir that he savored with each heartbeat. "Is that all you got?" he mocked through the flesh he had anchored his teeth.

"Aresenn Praetor"