Bad Luck

Domovei was not a normally confident male, but he was almost certain he could outrun the massive female. His paws impacted sharply with the frozen land as he sprinted away from her with all the energy he could muster. Truthfully, that wasn't saying much, for the creature wasn't particularly strong. The female had promised him that he would pay if he tried to run from her, and the threat of violence (or even death) would typically be enough of a threat for a creature to push themselves far beyond their limits. However, Domovei's will to live was clearly less strong than that of most wolves; though his pace was rapid, and he would outrun some wolves, Newt caught up to him easily. Before she did, he still felt adrenaline pumping through his veins, feeling the vessel of his heart beating rapidly in his fragile chest. If asked, he would've claimed his will to live was strong as ever, but in reality the promise of death and nothingness was more tempting than he could ever admit, even to himself.

Before he felt the female's grasp, he heard her rapid approach, a sinister laugh falling from her lips. Though the distance between them closed, she seemed to falter a bit, giving him a false sense of hope about the outcome of the chase. He felt fear wrap its cold grasp him and tighten as Newt's weight collided with his back leg. The air was nearly knocked out of him immediately as his small frame crashed roughly against the ground. There was little need to struggle, though instinct caused Domovei to twist his weight beneath his attacker. He growled as her fangs sunk into his shoulder, drawing blood almost immediately. While brimming with anger, his voice echoed with obvious pain. The growl ended in a slight whimper as he forced himself to grow silent, knowing protest would do nothing to further his cause. He knew this, and his body slackened beneath her. Admitting defeat was by far the easiest option. Pain surged through his body as Newt shook her head, his mind and judgement foggy.

Not only did her position over him signify her dominance -- his blood dripping from her jaws, signifying the obvious power she had over him -- but her words were sharp and demanding. He cringed beneath her, the frigid air bringing a stinging pain to his exposed flesh. Her voice whispered into his ear brought a chill down his spine, his body tingling as she spoke.

"Yes... I'll work on my manners, dominus..." he whimpered, as helpless as a mouse, just as she'd called him. She staked her claim on him, bringing another set of shivers down his spine. There would be no words of protest, no acts of defiance; his body law limp beneath her, unwilling to protest, 'lest he feel her fangs sinking even deeper into his flesh. "I am yours..." he admitted simply, voice small and quivering as he whimpered between parted lips.