wolf's teeth are near.
"Let's go," he says gruffly, his voice gravely to the ears. His dark eyes hungrily take in her curves, her unique coloring and her delicately chiseled features. Yes... Fenrir hisses, his voice just a figment of Ivar's dark and twisted mind.
Yes, she would do perfectly, she would satisfy Fenrir's endless appetite for destruction, for now. A sneer crawls across his inky black lips. He closes the distance between them swiftly, but insures to keep a watchful eye on her if she decides to fling her heels at him. His teeth seek to rake along her delicate shoulder.
"You look like the type that likes it rough," he whispers in her ear, before scuffling away. His muscles coil and tighten beneath his inky hide, he was a true creature of chaos. His dark eyes remain upon her face, just waiting for her reaction. Would she spit and curse at him? Or would she follow him meekly like a lamb to the slaughter? Either way, he looks forward to the events that are about manifest.
Translation:
Ivar Speech
the voice of Fenrir
Icelandic - Smoky Black - Stallion - 14.2 hh - Dögun x Unknown