When in Doubt, We Cull

Sericea froze, Zagan's loaded question hanging in the air between them. Her tongue still pressed to his wound, she slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. Those bi-colored eyes bore into her with a manic intensity, swirling with a chaotic whirlwind of emotions she couldn't quite decipher. Desire, desperation, something predatory and dangerous lurking just beneath the surface.

Did she know what she was doing? The truth was, Sericea wasn't entirely sure. She was acting on pure instinct, drawn to the taste of his blood, the heat of his body so close to hers. It awakened something primal within her, a hunger that had nothing to do with the dead sheep at their feet.

Slowly, deliberately, Sericea dragged her tongue along the length of the gash one last time before pulling back. She held Zagan's gaze, her own eyes half-lidded and glinting with a newfound boldness. "I'm cleaning your wound." She leaned in closer, her muzzle hovering a mere inch from his as a sly smile played at the corners of her lips. "Unless... you don’t want me to?” She let the question linger, savoring the tension that crackled between them like electricity.

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"