For more? His eyes narrowed at her, trying to decipher her words. Sekhmet, of course, was not a wolf to leave the meaning of something lingering in the unknown for too long. She moved into his space suddenly, yet he did not step away. Instead, he shifted closer as he felt her teeth snap at him – they brushed so close to his skin, and he had been tempted to move into them. Yet, he refrained. Instead, he allowed her to take her place, basking in the warmth of the air that formed between them. It was then that he reached out with his own teeth, raking them through the air and the very tips of her nape’s dark fur as she pressed her paw into the soil.
Kweku had been too caught up in enjoying their closeness to notice at first, but she made sure to direct his attention to where she wanted it. He complied, though he grumbled beneath his breath in resignation. He looked down to the pawprint, his head tilted in inquiry – he could not help himself though. She spoke, but he moved his paw beside where Sekhmet’s had been, pressing it down with less grace than she but well enough to leave a mark of his own. He was, of course, chuffed to find that his paw was still larger than even hers; he could not help but feel his fur rise all over in anticipation and pride.
Her words, though, truly caught him off guard. He had been listening, of course, but he had also been just as distracted by her very presence, always teetering on closer and closer, toeing the line between pack-mate and...His ears flickered, and his head jerked so that he faced her fully. "Be more,” he repeated, his voice somewhere between a question and an answer. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he was asking or answering at all. He had always considered taking up the role of her...mate, an exclusive companion, yet he had been unable to find the right time to do so. After all, he had grown accustomed to Cuirass’ place alongside them both, so he felt some strange feeling of ‘unwillingness’ to chase the man out of their circle. Obviously, Kweku had supposed, he would have to do so if he wanted her to be exclusively hers. Never had he expected her to come to him!
He had not moved, and so he felt her teeth graze across his flesh – his flesh for once, not simply his fur. They left a trail of warmth behind them, and he was glad. The warmth meant he could not get too distracted or too lost in his own ignorance. Instead, he was forced to look at her and feel the words and feel her eyes. "Wish, want. Yes, all those things. I will be whatever it is you want or need,” he finally began, "and you? Hm, I want and need you, yes, but as you are. In name, mine, but in spirit, your own.” He thought it made sense, and in truth, he was unaccustomed to having to speak in such a way. In fact, he had never even heard another wolf speak in such a way – not truly, at least. Was it the right way to do so? He had only been honest. Sekhmet was already an idol to him, a pillar of how a woman ought to be, and so he did not feel right claiming that she needed to be anything other than just herself. Could a wolf really lay claim to a force of nature, anyway? He smirked to himself. Honesty was a strange thing.
Then, he moved to pivot, so that he might face her wholly rather than stand beside her. Slowly, he lowered his head, and his posture followed suit to a degree – he let his tail fall low, his ears back, shoulders drawn down some inches in a bow. Submission, he supposed, or as close as he could muster within himself to perform. He would not remain as such for long though, and he did not expect her to mimic the movement at all. Instead, he rose and lurched forward, eyes hard on her as he moved to place his chest against her own and feel the back of her neck between his teeth. He grabbed at her fur, moving to draw her close until he could very well feel her blood and heart against his own. Their connection had always been as such – let tender words be for the others, for theirs was a hunt, the feeling of adrenaline.