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He is completely aware of their presences within the cave, that hollow which he has never entered, the breadth of his shoulders too wide to pass the opening. Ears washed in black lace forward, listening to the movement of mother and daughter within, and he does not miss the words the girl speaks.
Weakness is for prey. The rumbling that had begun in his chest exploded then in a snarl, commanding the presence of the white banshee. The roar had barely faded from his lips before she responds, a higher pitched, short growl that answers him. It is with absolute precision she moves, and at first he sees only her paws, then the length of a leg, and finally she positions herself so that she is directly in his line of vision. Immediately his brows pulled together in frustration, to have her so close and yet unreachable, there within the cavern which he has never breeched entry to. When their eyes locked on to one another, like the predators they were, each hungry for the other, another snarl ripped from his lips. The black curtains pulled back to fully reveal the deadly weapons sheathed within, and just the tip of his tongue slipped forward to curl over the top row. Her scent annihilated his senses, and he wanted her fur between his teeth more than ever.
But she does not come to him, instead making her own demands, and a renewed frustration at his inability to go where he pleased reared its ugly head. In answer, he swiped a paw at the entrance to her dominion. But the response she really wanted she would not get until she came to him. And so she did leaping with the infallible elegance of a perfect predator, leaving the confines of the cavern to engage him. He finds that a single breath catches in his throat in anticipation of their reunion, and then she is upon him. Hardly needing to brace his weight against the impact, his body folded into hers while remaining unshakably upon his paws. Even as her teeth find purchase in the fur of his side he reaches out to grab her ruff, filling his mouth entirely and he gives it a single shake before releasing. Then she twists, running bites up his throat from below, and he nips at the side of her face before she reaches to lick his lips. For just a moment he remains rigid, still as a snake about to strike as she bathes him in adoration and demands.
Suddenly she wears a mask of black and red, and his puppy form is lying on its side protesting against the bathing he is forced to endure. A few nips remove stickled brambles from his fur, and further licks smooth his disheveled appearance.
For a moment his teal and green eyes become distant as he is lost in a memory he did not know he had. And then he is present again, and he erupts in an answering demand. As she buried her nose at the base of his ear he suddenly reared up and placed his forelegs over her back, just behind her ruff. He does not attempt to shove her down, merely lets his weight rest entirely upon her, to remind her of his immensity and what he was capable of doing with it. His mouth twisted down and roughly bit her three times in succession, from the middle of her spine down to the base of her tail. And then he pushed off of her and landed once more so that they stood shoulder to shoulder, his lips finally falling to cover his weapons of choice.
She speaks then of one of their children’s desire to meet him, and reproachful eyes narrow, moving from her to the cave’s mouth once more.
Widow she calls, and so the pup emerges. Stained in red and black and white, there is no mistaking her for anything but the offspring of the two who stand before her. It requires the utmost restraint – a trait not well known to Reaver – for him not to advance and bury his fangs into her flesh. Instead, he remained where he was, studying her for a moment. She sits idly as his hungry eyes devour her. After a few moments of silence his lengthy legs brought him to her in a mere two strides, and the girl rolled onto her back in response to his proximity. Immediately a massive paw came down upon her chest, the size of it completely encompassing the width of her youthful torso. He pressed down upon her, enough to let her feel his power but not to limit her breathing. Beneath his paw he could feel the beat of her heart, and he waited for it to accelerate the way helpless animals organs would. And then he lowered his blackened muzzle to her face, pulling his lips back in a silent grimace less than an inch from her nose, anticipating the response of one who was riddled with weakness. But some small part of him hoped she would not give him reason to end her life – Jaidah had said she showed promise, and he would find out now whether that was canard or truth.
REAVER