Devlin was all energy and movement, his body wriggling and undulating as he attempted to squeeze himself into her burrow and pull her out. He could see the glow of her eyes, eyes which he longed to rip from her skull and roll over his tongue. The thought nearly made him purr with excitement -- instead, a deep snarl ripped its way from his throat and echoed through the stony cavern where the whore waited.
She lurched forward, snapping her little pointed teeth in their direction, and Devlin could feel a giggle of delight bubbling up from his chest. He could taste her determination, her flimsy desire to protect what mattered most to her. She, with her small-minded understanding of a world much larger than herself, would give her life to protect the insignificant bundle of flesh and tiny bones that had crawled from her womb.
The bitch failed to comprehend the futility of her actions, the inevitability of her own death and the death of her child. If it did not occur on this night by the grinning jaws of Devlin and his wordless companion, her death would catch up with her eventually. The black emptiness of death was always waiting, ready, hungry.
For now Devlin lunged, hoping to clamp his wiry jaws around newly exposed soft flesh as the slut snapped her teeth at them. He would tug and pull, aiming to lock his teeth down on whatever he could get, rather than biting spasmodically in her direction. One flash of his yellowed fangs would be all it took -- he didn't give a shit about inflicting wounds; his sole intent now was to drag the bitch out from her hiding place.
D E V L ! N
MALE - 38" - 120 LBS - LONER