The heat had fire flowing through Seven's blood. Her skin was slick and wet, muscles quivering from exertion and dehydration. Her rumbled mane and tail could led one to think she had just come from a thorough fucking. It was only the lack of the sweet scent of sex that begged to differ. If her mother saw her now, she would be appalled but Seven thought she pulled off the look.

It seemed she would not wait long for company. It is his scent that reaches her first. Full of spice and carnal masculinity, it coats her tongue and fills her throat. Her lungs spasm and her nostrils flare as she takes it in. Despite her bravado and sass, Seven had few encounters with the opposite sex. Her instincts demand that she should hold her biting tongue and bow her crown but a primal side demands a spine of steel. We know which devil on the shoulder she chose.

Orbs of gold and blue snap to the sound of crackling branches as he makes his appearance. A sleek frame is bathed in onyx flesh and coiled muscles that seem a hair breadth from striking out. Her mouth dries and Seven reflexively swallows. She would forever deny that is was from instant attraction to the predator who approached.

The snapping of his jaws causes her auds to flick forth and then back in annoyance. Her orbs narrowed a fraction, anger beginning to lick at her mind. She did not take kindly to his actions but his words did cause her to pause. "Wolves? Should I send a prayer to the gods that I was born bereft of red hues? Or does my flesh tempt teeth to rip and paint in crimson?"

Seven took a step forth, pulling painted lips back from her teeth. Her orbs meet his before she darts forth with a laugh, swiping her tongue from cheek to auds. Immediately after, she dances back a couple steps and hopefully out of range of a retaliatory strike. "Hmmm I wondered if your taste was anything like your scent. It seems I was right. You taste absolutely sinful" His taste would linger on her tongue, of this Seven was sure.

She could not help herself. Where there was chaos, Seven was oft in the mix. Seven did not know how he would react to her actions but she did not regret them. She was the cat that got the canary.

SPEECH

[ she's up to no good ]