She is a truly brave creature to stand and face as she does, driven perhaps by pure instinct that demands a Mother defend her child, her teeth bared towards him in defiance and yet it is not her he seeks tonight. His interest in her exists only until her form shrinks from his own, until she stays upon the earth he has placed her and accepts that he will tolerate nothing less as a savage snarl rises to coil within his throat like a spitting obscenity towards her. Her own rumbles of protest are ignored, his form of darkened perfection lifted, head and tail high as any Alpha, assuming his position upon her once more though the threat of fangs exists still should she seek to defy him again. Tongue parts from bloodied jaws to lick at his lips and teeth, to savour that taste upon them though those eyes of darkened reptilian green have fixated upon her den entrance now. He presses forward, sliding across the earth on blackened wings to press into the darkness of the earth. It is a small space, poorly designed for one larger then Nakato herself, the earth pressing at his sides as if it took seeks o deny him access to the tender flesh within.
He can scent them now, a thing so potent, youthful heated flesh that sings sweet lyrics to his stomach and tongue in memory of such a taste, saliva pooling in anticipation as he presses onwards with dark eyes aglow in the gloom. They are before him then, small and weakened in their youth, their cries a soft mewling that is lost upon him, nor swells within him any desire to protect as it does others. He knows they are female, muzzle lowered to the first, inhaling her scent as a rumbling growl rises within his throat, jaws parted to release his tongue, allowing it to sweep across her, smoothing that baby fur as if he might taste her first. Yet his fangs stay themselves, lips fallen back across those whitened blades. It is weak and yet not. This he knows. Weak as any child is weak and yet time and again Aaliyah and Flare and Tick Tock had impressed upon him that he could not take these things- for she holds not scent of sickness, no jerking, weakened motion to her tiny limbs. The child was not unhealthy and it seems his fangs will not open the flesh of one deserving of life. The first child is no longer of interest to him, his darkened gaze turned upon the second.
She too is licked, tongue sweeping across her, tasting her, watching her as she mewls and calls in response to a scent unfamiliar, eyes unblinking fixated upon her before he turns abruptly, a snarl of irritation spat from his lips. These things so small carry upon them the scent of She of Scars and himself. They are his things, yes, his things- not for eating…..for they are not weak. Darkened limbs carry him from the den now, stepping back into the darkness of the night though his form is halted once more, reptilian gaze fixated upon Nakato now as jaws part to release that rasping sound.
“Not……..weeeak. Not…….for……eating.”
It is spoken upon a rasping breath that rattles within his throat as he turns from her now, long limbs carrying his form away and into the darkness, leaving Nakato and her children this night, blessed as no other has been by the Black Prince. For he has deemed them worthy of life.