It would seem it is she whom comes to he this daybreak, the darkness clinging with desperation to what remains of the night as the fire struck wolfess of white lunges from the shadows to appear before him in a rush of fangs and fur that bristle with an agitation that bleeds from her like the very liquid in her veins his hunger so seeks with a desperation near maddening. Yet he is sated tonight, the demons of his mind silent in their contentment from the meal of flesh and tendon and blood that congeals within his belly now. Those deadened eyes fall upon her all the same, the serpentine emerald of his gaze fixated upon her form as his mind twists and contorts itself and the scent of her lingers within his nostril’s- plunging him once more into the belief that no time has passed, that no days have come and gone and no moons have risen nor packlands burned in meteor fire. It is Jaylah- as it has always been Jaylah. His possession, his belonging- returned to him now. She is small and slight and filled with anger that reeks thickly from every pore within her and yet he cares not, it is always as she has been, her anger a futile emotion that does little more then beat weakly against him like the heads of arrows struck against a steel shield of immeasurable strength. Her rage cannot cut or strike him. He is above her as always he has been, a stronger force, dominant and in time she will bow. She is not for eating…no….no…she is valuable, a prize to be kept though his patience is not unlimited, her blood a prize as worthy as her presence and soon, should she refuse- he will seek merely her destruction as he does all else he deems to be weak and fragile and breakable in this world.

Her roaring words see his paws brought to a halt before her, that darkened, angelic, hellion having turned towards her in this moment- deadened eyes fixated upon her as those words screech and hiss within his ears and his lip is pulled back from the bloodied knives of his weaponry that expose themselves within the faint glow of the moon that struggles to cast it’s weakening glow upon the coming dawn. He clings to those last shreds of darkness, form concealed within them, figure distorted within those reams of shadow that make him seem even larger then perhaps he is as he towers above her, before her, a snarl coiled within his throat in an effort to silence the wretched words that burn and sting at his ears and seem only to enrage him further. He loathes words, cannot understand them- not fully, feels only the pressure of them wrapping about the tendrils of his mind as they rebel against it. He is a creature of the wild, he is instinct and hunger and no else. He is true wolf, perfection upon this earth, he alone carved in the image of that which is truly the law of the wild and yet all fear him, all flee before him, all throw vile words towards him that ricochet from his form-teeth bared towards her in response as his throat….gargles, attempts to pull words from within it- fractured mind clinging desperately to what few words he is capable of commanding.

“Mine.”

It is the same word from before, hissed towards her and yet…his head rolls towards the space behind her….to the den she stands in front of, blocking the male from his place of rest though surely she has not known it so, his single, rasping words aimed towards his sleeping place. His hunger is sated, he does not seek to eat and yet….she blocks him from what is his, long limbs carried forward with deadly grace, heckles lifted in threat in this moment. She will move- or be cast aside.