Want.
He wanted her.
Gypsy.
His gypsy.

“I will kill you, if you should ever fall short… how is that, then?

Massive head shakes, attempting to block her out from his mind. There are too many demons inside his dooming thoughts, he didn’t need another. Ears fall back upon thick skull, those deep eyes appearing blood stained against his scarred face. Where was she? The wanderer who had dared to defy him and yet dared to fight him at the same time. She was intoxicating, eliciting a fire within him that she had yet to experience.

Funniest part about it?
He hasn’t even had a true taste of her yet.

A growl disperses through the wooded area, ceasing all chitter and chatter from the world itself. They scatter from the blood king, unwilling to stand in the way of his intense hunt. Her scent was thick in this area, the trees looming over him as if to block out the moon and hide her from his sight. Lip curls back, snarls continuous and he looks like a child throwing a fit over the fact that his mother took his candy away.

His sweet, fiery candy.

He can practically sense her near him, sliding in and out of shadows as if toying with him.
Gul doesn’t like games.

“gypsy….” his baritones are raspy, a hushed demand. It as if he is summoning a demon from the underworld he admires so much, his voice a trigger for desires to be satisfied.

“come out.. Come out.. Wherever you are…”