“gul”

His title is returned to him and his fur shakes with anticipation. Invisible fingers slide along his scarred face and draws along his spine as a chill runs through him. That curled lip had rested only to rise again for the demons within stir at the sound of his name coming from another. “Mm…” the beast muses, thick cranium tilting as those ears lift forward to catch every letter. It triggers in his mind, a flicker flashing through his intense gaze.

She moves and his nose wrinkles briefly before he calms himself. Haunches lower to the cool earth as steam falls from his nostrils. His name drips from her tongue once more and he seems to rumble with delight in it. The demons stir, his warning obviously going unnoticed by the dame. A question is asked and he allows the question to hang in the air as silence drifts in between them. ...physical character… his face moves as if to arch a brow at this though he knows of what she speaks.

He is a massive beast, a being with more wins under his belt than losses. His whole aura screams conqueror in more ways than one. Scars riddle his thick bodice, covering his canvas like art and the most worthy of a gaze is the one upon his face bestowed upon him by his very own father. So she has taken notice of the Blood King?

Good.
He has definitely taken notice of her.

“collecting dust… no dear, waiting for the opportune moment.” He grants her with a simple, low toned answer of indifference. This is not how it will go though, he will be the one on offense and she can be on defense.

The beast rises, shaking off the dust that dare linger upon his thick, winter coat. He moves forward, drawing beside her in reach of her jaws should she strike. Aged face hiding whatever fear or worry that may rest in his features. He moves forward, turning his muzzle towards her shoulder blade and inhaling deeply, ears flicking back upon his skull in distaste. Her fur is mixed, mingling with the fur of others. Perhaps a pack? Family? Lover? Disgusting.

A snort falls from his nose, head shaking slightly as a desire to change her musk to something better rolls over him. He subdues his urge to rub along her slender frame and cover her with his own earthy aroma. She is not his.

Yet.

Soon they all would be.

His gaze casts back to look upon her matured face. “where do you come from?” he asks with a strange tone in his husky voice, irritation perhaps?