He's bold, he's brash and he's just what she needed. A slow, easy as well as lazy smirk is adorning her features as he draws closer. He doesn't bother to give her space in case she wanted it- and he was more than correct in his assumptions. They don't need names, not now, not here. They dance apart from the rest of the crowd, to the rhythm of their own drum, and there is no taming souls such as their own. They were wild things unmatched by any other, and Seline practically craved his presence, his touch, his entire being.

His dominance does not go unnoticed, causing her own pristine alabaster tail to rise, though not in challenge. She meets him head on then, taking the last step forward as he does himself, pushing firm up against her and roughly nudging the place just behind her ear. Her venomous, emerald gaze finds its closure then- her deep and throaty growl expressing her pleasure in the contact and her wish for him not to go anywhere. And his voice; it purrs for her and only her, melting her insides into a liquid fire. And then he's only fueling that desire, that lust, that want and that need. His touch is on the move then, his muzzle trailing along the back of her neck- before she can feel his jaws subtly part.

Another wolf might have withdrawn, might have thrown him off and rejected his advances. But the Satanican Queen was no ordinary wolf. Instead, she arched her spine so that she pressed even closer to him, enticing her flesh within his jaws. And the moment they closed to create a pressure against her fur and skin there, she gave a rumbling sound of approval, her teeth bared in a most pleasant smirk upon her muzzle, her body practically shuddering with ecstasy. It was not every day she met a wolf who could hold their own with her, let alone join in her sadistic fun. He would be one she would remember, and seek out always- but for now she would enjoy her time with him. And though he may not appreciate it, she was loathe to leave him out as it were. Reaching back around best she could, she aimed to take the front of his shoulder within her own jaws, unwilling to pull herself out of his reach but adjusting so that they might remain more comfortable.

Her eyes open then, their bright, exotic emerald piercing and intense as she gazes up upon him. Her muffled growl then is one of challenge, to see how far he will go, how far she can push him. She wants to see what he is capable of, and for him to prove himself though he might not know it. Seline was in the mood to play, and the blood and snow wolf always got what she wanted. It was emphasized as she readjusted her grip, if she managed to have one, to allow the barest edges of her fangs to delve within flesh, bringing small springs of crimson from within. She wanted her fun, and she would have it.