He quite loved the way the snow feel, as it blanketed the world from view, particularly when she howled her pleasure. Sort of how she did now, her screeches billowing into the opening of his cave, before wrapping their tendrils about her in its echoing embrace. The performance of the gale was fierce as he sat before her wrath, shivering with delight as her icy kisses chilled his heated flesh. Oh, how he sought one such as nature. He would pin her, ravaging every orifice upon her bodice until she sagged with exhaustion, until she bleed from the friction. He wanted a lover who could take him, who could withstand his brutal affections only to turn around and beg for more. There was nothing sexier than a woman with a black eye asking for a split lip.

Mouth begins to salivate as he pictures her, forms her body within is mind, and so captivated was he that he almost misses the soft moan of the creature he had stashed earlier. The sound is soft; a gentle gasp of painful terror that only hiccups at the low growl that seems to expand within his chest. He had gotten so far with his visual imaging, so close to climax that the interruption was not welcomed. Whirling he stalks forward, family jewels uncomfortably full as they shift with each step, until he towers before the plump lump of flesh. Eyes narrow as they slice across its ivory shift, taking perverse pleasure in the way some of it was stripped from its flesh. The skin was raw, bleeding in some places, yet it should be grateful for in others the skin was missing. The thick hair was a welcome addition to his bed several feet deeper up on a ledge. He did not need it, what with his luxuriously thick mane, yet it added appeal. What did one of his bed mates say…oh yes decoration.

Another sound draws his ire, fangs flashing before sinking into the warm fountain that was goat. At first nothing happens but he knows better, he waits until it bubbles forth, until it washes over his tongue and down the sides of his mouth. The alabaster quickly stains as he jerks his head back, jaws working to scissor the slip of flesh off. Ruthless was the attack that he almost laughs with glee when it gives way, the bloody scrap dangling from his daggers. He could almost hear the soft thud the crimson wine gave as it fell to the stone beneath him if not for the shriek the animal gave before attempting to scramble back on broken legs.

”Shall I make you sing for me? I love this tune but dare I say you are holding back.” He muses aloud, his words punctuated with the loud smack of his lips as he chews upon the morsel. ”I think you could go louder.”

And with that he is upon it again, this time targeting the animal’s reproductive organs. He takes his time to slice open the sacs that rest upon the goat’s leg as it lay sprawled beneath him. Each incision is met with a whimpering gasps, involuntary shuddering, and loud squeals. They bring him gratification, so much so that after, when his auburn paws are deeply painted he finds his release…all over the belly of the goat. Pity he couldn’t have waited to see what delights it could have offered in a more traditional sense. He wasn’t picky, just very opportunistic. Without turning to peer into the comatose eyes of his victim he rises to stroll back to the gaping mouth of his cave. Content, he rests upon his haunches, staring into the swirling mass of white. He waits, for what he knows not, just that he knows opportunity is always at paw when one is looking.