clouds rolling in

her every word serves only to incense him further, stoking the raging fire crackling in his underbelly until he can barely think past thar searing heat. her arrogance, the complete and unyielding confidence of her victory, it’s an impertinence he can’t ignore. why, she’s practically begging to be put in her place, and who is he to deny her? “such ghastly promises,” he sneers, gripping the earth beneath his claws. “let’s see if you can truly fulfil them.”

something electric seems to crackle overhead, the hairs along his spine rising in answer. for a moment, he’s struck with the fanatic notion that he could do it: strike her down with nary a thought, flatten her with less than a look. as Styrmir readies himself, he cuts a glance to the soft skin of her throat, the enticing curve of her flank, the glint of a silver eye. he’s wanted this since they’d first met, even if he hadn’t quite known it at the time. and now, finally, that desire is released.

releasing his grip on the earth, Styrmir snaps forward like an arrow released from its bow, unfurling every powerful limb as he reaches for her. the voice is blessedly quiet, though he can sense Her excitement like a tangible jolt, humming away at the back of his head. the world narrows, shrinks, falls away until all he can see is her, her, her. teeth bared, Styrmir makes a grab for Illu’s shoulders, aiming to sling both paws around her neck and pull her bodily to the ground. he needs to feel her writhe beneath him, needs to hear her really scream.

he won’t accept anything less.

"Styrmir Trygg"