The queen slayer's strife {Anthrax}

The stench of estrogen was heavy in the air, so thick and pungent he might have thought it were a smog. The beast looked to his quarry, the woman he obsessively trailed, the one who said she could not remember him. He longed for her, ached for her loins, but would not take it unless she remembered - or offered it to him. His Ainslie, she belonged to him, but this woman - whoever she might be - was lurking too near his prize, his precious. She was chanting something foreign, something he could understand but very well could not interpret. It didn't matter, he wasn't into interpretations. Salivary gland sent a flood of saliva dripping from the corners of his lips. A sickening sucking sound was made as the beast drew in his venom, unwilling to look a total mess in the presence of what could be a beautiful female. The beast might be sold on Ainslie, but he still was irrefutably masculine.

As he approached, stalking forth with little attempt at hiding himself, the ashen brute would find her screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs. A single yellow eye bored into her spine, severing it with his mind. She was a massive she-devil, larger even than he, but only just. A snarl would rip from his throat, one that wasn't laced with malice, but a greeting. "Excellent show," he would retort as he came up behind her, serpentining around a pine that stood in his path. He did not approach close enough for a charge, but instead lingered a few yards away, clearly interested but not altogether excited.


"Speech"