This ball and chain

*Valentine* · (This post was last modified: 10-24-2014, 08:56 PM by Valentine.)

Words, like the droning of an insect, reached his ears but the brute ignored the chiding words until the battle was over. His blood sang, adrenaline pumping through his veins and setting him on fire. He was riding an incredible, endless high. A high that filled him with a feeling of invincibility and made everything beyond him feel insignificant in comparison. He felt like a god, high above the whimpering of the mortals.

With victory under his belt and pink saliva dripping from his jowls, Valentine flicked glittery eyes in the direction of his step mother. Her motives escaped him. What did she care if he punished a slave? "On more than one occasion she has refused to give respect when it was due. I was merely teaching her a lesson," he rumbled, tone ending on a low grumble. It shouldn't matter to her what he was doing. The white bitch was a slave. His ears flicked back as Maija threatened him; he was unimpressed with her display. In response his hackles rose, toes (all but the bruised ones) digging into the dirt as his stance turned defensive once more. The brute's blood was hot, his senses on edge and his inhibitions lowered. He was unafraid of a new challenge.

"Speaking" Thinking

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