Sshhh... Do you hear that sound? He growls into your ear.

The brute had figured out the unique characteristic that Macaria had, and though he was not going to partake in that particularly activity with her, he did not care that she did it herself. There was a small part nagging at him, telling him that what she was doing was wrong and that he should steer clear of her and her terrible ways. But Padfoot had learned long ago that the world was full of terrible things, so what was one more wolf that wanted to make the world a little more twisted? But just because he didn’t care what she did meant that he would partake with her. The brute blended in with the darkness and the shadows easily with his midnight colored pelt, and he stayed there when Macaria offered up the throat of the struggling varg that was to become her meal. She gave him a moment to change his mind, eyes narrowing in anger at him at his denial of her offering, but he would not budge his own morals, what little ones he had left anyways. His grey orbs never wavered from her orange ones, and after a moment she realized that he would not come over, and so she went ahead with the deed herself.

Once Padfoot saw that the stranger’s life was flowing away he padded forward to Macaria, not turned off by her because of what she had done as many would be. The femme began to feed before all the life had drained away from the varg, and a part of Padfoot felt bad for the stranger, being consumed was one thing but being consumed while still somewhat alive was another. As he approached her, she growled at him, warning him not to approach but he ignored the warnings. He had no interest in tasting the meal, but he still wanted to taste her. She did not snap at him or move to violence, but paused for a moment as he licked at her. Her form leaned into him as she spoke, “You know, you could learn to like my particular palate if you would only try it… but never mind that.” He cocked his head slightly at her words, curious as to what it would be like, but not curious enough to try it, or attempt to anyways. Padfoot remained silent as she turned away from him to continue leading them to their destination. When he speed increased, he matched it, letting her lead the way but staying by her side. He occasionally let their pelts touch as the paced themselves to Abendrot. Even though the two had had an intimate session together, his hunger for her was not sated and he didn’t want space between them, hoping that she would understand what it was that he wanted again.

A strong scent reached his nares and he knew that they were at the borders of her pack. Some would not want to enter without permission from the alpha, but not only Padfoot not care about pack dynamics and rules, but he was accompanied by Macaria so he had no issues following her past the borders and into the territory. If someone questioned why he was there, he would just use Macaria’s permission to enter as an excuse for ignoring the most basic rules. She continued to lead the way, to what turned out to be her den. “Widen it a bit for me, will you love?” The brute had no issues doing what she asked, knowing that he would need more space than the small den offered for what he wanted to do with her. Padfoot smirked at her as he moved in front of her to have more access. ”Anything you say ma’am.” He brushed against her as he moved in front of her, his tail dragging behind him to touch as much of her as possible. The brute put his muscles to work to dig out a larger entrance, her form much smaller and slimmer than his own, and then pushed in to continue to make it larger, so that there would be enough room for the two of them.

When Padfoot was satisfied with the size of the den he was panting and hot from the exertion, but that was not going to stop him from more physical activity. If she had stayed outside the den during his work he would go back out to meet her, dirt and dust speckling his pelt now. ”So, my dear, would you like to go inspect my handywork?” He nudged at her to enter the den, not wanting to wait to feel her anymore. Once the pair were in the larger den, he kept his body alongside hers, making sure that there was no space between their bodies. Padfoot turned his head to her, nipping and licking at her nape to make his intentions perfectly clear. Even though the pair had spent time together, he still would not force himself upon her and would not assume that him being in his den meant that he could have her once more. But as long as she was game for round two, he was more than willing.

That's the sound of your death. His claws scrape against stone.
Picture and table credit to Alesana <3