We can light it up, up, up, so they can put it out, out, out.
Perhaps it was nothing, or perhaps it was more. Either way it was something other than the throbbing pain in his chest to think about. He had noticed her before he had seen or heard her, because her scent was like a single rose amongst a border of dead thorns. Pungent, and overwhelming, almost sweet as it tickled Soren's senses. Nonetheless, Soren had learned the hard way not to be swooned by the precious advantages anything female could offer. They would throw you into the fire as quick as looking at you if it meant saving themselves. Soren had also seen them do a lot more for a lot less, and he wasn't about to take no chances while his body fought to clot the streaming blood.
He stood and lapped tenderly at his chest. Covering the wound with his tongue in an attempt at helping the wound heal. Luckily the damage was nothing but a graze which bled profusely because of where it was. Nevertheless, he was lucky and he knew it. Soren also knew that if it wasn't for the thick mane of fur which had grown around his throat, right now he would be gargling on his own blood. Imbecile. Nothing like a lone male wolf for sport right? He wondered quietly how the overgrown cat had felt when Soren had slaughtered her children before her own eyes.
“Teach them to hunt, by all means, but at-least pick smaller prey.” He hissed through gritted teeth Still, the feeble she devil hadn't let him get away unscathed.
He ignored the female presence. Call it stupidity while knowing better than to under mind her. Nonetheless, his anger was getting the better of him, and he was to preoccupied to care. Soren listened in silence as she sang her little song and her paws sank delicately into the soil beneath her. The words she spoke were UN-familiar and for a second or two he was actually blessed with the thought that they might not be able to communicate with one another Until that was, she opened her pretty little mouth.
“It's called bathing, sweet cheeks. Something which I'm sure you know nothing about.”
He turned to face her with one small sweep of his paws. The water dripped from the tips of his fur. The bleeding still hadn't stopped but at the very least, Soren now knew the wound was clean of the she devils saliva. Silver eyes met the mismatch of colours and the beauty of a rather, petite yet muscular figure. An odd combination for a female. It was clear this she wolf was no den mother, and where there was one there was many, so despite himself Soren knew he would tread carefully with this one.
If she hadn't referred to him as disgusting flesh he might have been a little nicer, but don't give it if you can't take it was something Soren's father would always say. He took a step closer to her as he climbed the rivers bank, and shook out his fur. Cold beads of water flew off in all directions, soaking the ground beneath him, but all Soren could do was grin and lick the blood from his teeth as he stared at the little. Damsel in distress?
“To whom do I owe the pleasure?”
SOREN
|