Bloodied and Broken

He waited with bated breath, silent but for the sound of grass rustling beneath his paws as he crept closer to her. There was only the smallest remnants of hesitance to his step. He had all but died inside already, so would it be that bad to truly die? Basilisk had never been afraid of death, but being so close to it had simply made him wary and careful. "You did," he agreed, smile unfurling for a moment as he pondered this. How long ago had it been? No more than a year, he figured. And yet it had seemed like a lifetime since he had been in her presence. The expression would quickly return to his features, a smirk that seemed strangely mischievous for one being gently threatened with death.


"Are you implying my need for you is wrong?" He inquired with curiosity, tilting his head to the side. His skull and shoulders were held low, his eyes gazing up at her despite the fact that he was doubtlessly the taller one. "It doesn't feel wrong." He had grown much bolder now, she wasn't wrong about that. But it was difficult to be afraid when he had nothing left to lose but the one thing she had promised she would someday take.


With a whine he would seek to press his nose to her neck, jaws parting as he aimed to nip at the sensitive skin of her throat. Basilisk would nearly grovel before her, his heart beating loudly in his chest, adrenaline beginning to course through his veins. It had been so long since he'd been in the company of anyone, and Cataleya's scent was suddenly intoxicating and exciting, despite her obvious rage.