She seemed fascinated – amused, even – by his response. Of course, he did not change it in order to change that. Kweku had always enjoyed fascinating her, amusing her, simply being an object of her attention, whatever that attention might be. Even worse, for him at least, was when he could feel the fire of a fight behind her eyes and in the very space they shared. It was difficult for him to not seize the moment, and even harder for him to hold his own fight back from her. There would be, as far as Kweku was concerned, few greater joys than meeting such a wolfess amid her element. Yet, they both chose to contain themselves, and so, he forced the temptation back into hiding – at least, for then. There were no promises later.
Besides, he supposed, there was one thing better than indulging in her fire and that, simply put, was seeing her truly pleased. When Sekhmet grinned, it was a small blessing on Kweku. He grumbled beneath his breath; a sort of purr that practically made his body vibrate with subdued ecstasy as he hungrily ate up every second of her smile. So few had the opportunity to see such an expression, and in turn, his was softened – his eyes were tender, like honey as he drank her in. How did she expect him to hold back for so long? He flexed his muscles, rolled his shoulders. She must, he thought, have been torturing him.
Then, she pressed against him. The moment their fur mingled, and her teeth grazed him again, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. His entire body seemed to shift in weight as he exhaled, his hot breath running through the fur of her neck. He could see the white of her skin, stark and beautiful against the darkness of her fur. Unscarred, proof of her strength. He did not let it get away that time – he reached out, and rather than nip, he raked his teeth through her fur, grooming away any fleck of dust that dared to tarnish the divinity that was she.
And so, like that, he understood what she had meant – and that she had meant it. They stood together for some moments, but he had grown restless after the first. He could feel his heart against his chest; heavy, slow thuds that matched her own. In the back of his throat, he could taste anticipation.
The moment she pulled away and invited him forward, he took a broad step back and lowered his head. His face was alive with hard eyes and a mischief-seeking grin, challenging and confident all in one. His tail arched slightly (of course, to a position befitting of his rank, yet he knew it might incite her to take their spar just a little more seriously) and waved slow and steady behind him. He huffed, snorted, his mouth parting to reveal teeth as he lumbered forward one wide, swaggering step. His paw hit the ground heavily, and his body seemed to freeze entirely for a moment as his eyes locked onto hers.
Then, he leapt. In one swift, instant movement, he leapt forward towards her. He raised his right leg high, intending to grasp her around her neck if she let him – or if he’d somehow caught her off guard. He wasn’t fussy, and he’d take any excuse to tangle with her. And so, he had intended to grasp her around the back of her neck, hoisting himself high and mighty as he nipped the air, at her, at anything. Like some great bear, he’d rise and meet her in the air and then on the ground with a hard thud as he pulled his legs beneath him. His head swung low, partly in defense and partly to offer the thick fur and skin of his scruff – he wanted to feel her teeth, her fight, to truly meet her where she thrived.