Dark Love

Perhaps in the darkness, she could not see his deformities; and even if she could, would she even care? Though he had not the body of a warrior, he bore some muscle from travel and but a few scars from fights. His tail had been torn off to hardly nothing, and he moved with a slight limp, one hid hind paws mangled from the earthquake.

And yet she wanted him still. Kaprasíus, son of the gods themselves, and her body seemed to radiate with want. He had expected nothing less. She echoed the same passion that his own body did, his limbs quivering with anticipation as she leaned forward to nip at his cheek. "And what a naughty little shadow you are," he whispered under his breath, shifting to pull himself adjacent to her, wanting to nip at her ear -- though this time, his grip was more firm, needy almost. A playful growl would echo from his throat, deep and yet far from menacing as he pressed his body against her own, as though begging for an invitation.