He chuckled darkly at Kobato's adorable display of temper, the little faerie-flames of defiance simmering behind her topaz lanterns while her pert muzzle puckered up into a delightfully feminine scowl--one he wanted to kiss back into a smile until she laughingly begged him to stop. If Vladya weren't aware of the gold-filigreed strength sheltered behind her cream-colored breast, he would have wondered how he ever took such a sugar-spun creature seriously. In this state of discomfort, she looked about as intimidating as a barely-fledged sparrow, tawny feathers ruffled. A miniature crown of vivid violet petals still rested between her triangular ears (which he wasn't about to remind her of. . . especially when they made him think of ways to ensure they slipped off). On one side of her neck, just behind one silky audit, her cocoa-dusted fur lay in bizarre directions where she'd rumpled it in her sleep. Oh, darling Kobato. Too pure for this world.

Unfortunately, that last thought had the warboy snapping back into sickeningly protective mode, and he had to scrape a paw across his face to wipe away the worried expression threatening to ruin his currently wicked one. No--think of the GAME, moron. Can't you do a single thing right?! His scuffed-leather voice rasped teasingly in the short space between them, accompanied by a fleeting pearly glimmer when that playful smirk widened into something a bit hungrier. "That's not saying much, since the only other 'things' around here are flowers. Are you measuring my absolutely terrifying presence against a bunch of posies?"

She slipped him a crafty sideways peek, caramel-colored diamonds half concealed by velvet drapes. That acknowledgement of their unspoken contest sparked a split-second arc of fire that voraciously consumed Vladya's lingering anxiety. It flared warmly in his chest before collapsing its way downward, where it smoldered so persistently the white warrior knew he had to wrestle through it or else wrestle Kobato immediately to the earth. So many of their interactions where him stumbling blindly down the steep road to romance; always the obstacles of Ko's tender age and her innocent lack of experience (or should he say vague taste of experience?) reared up to plunge Vlad back into uncertainty. He wanted to ravish her, he wanted to guide her; he wanted to take the easy way out and express his affection in the basest, most instinctual way possible, but shied respectfully around the boundaries Kobato had yet to cross. On the carnal playing field, Vladya definitely gripped the advantage--except what use was that mastery when it needed to be tempered for his princess? Because the tundra gladiator wouldn't harm his princess by fault of aggression--but fuck, it wasn't fair when she peered at him like that!

"You should be careful what you say O Mighty Kobato, Fearless Ruler of the Daisies." He shifted forward until the travel-rough pads of his front feet were pressed over Ko's charmingly tiny forepaws, effectively "trapping" her where she sat. This near, Vladya loomed over her petite frame, forcing her to either pull awkwardly away or endure having her face unnervingly close to the pulse underneath the feathery fur of the dragon's throat. Funny how Vlad never really noticed much about his appearance, like the way his frost-pale pelt seemed forever messy and wild, unable to lay completely flat where the lines of healed wounds formed a jigsaw over his hide; he rarely spent time studying his reflection, and therefore hadn't memorized the lattice work of nacreous scar tissue that simultaneously marred and sharpened his masculine features. Vladya couldn't judge in himself the qualities that his beloved might find "attractive" . . . he only knew that if he messed with her just so, her pulse would leap gratifyingly under his touch. The cunning soldier tried that now, leaning down so they faced each other cheek-to-cheek, breath warm when it hit her sensitive ear. "It is my goal to see if you can 'handle it.' Or did you want to back out?"

He tipped his claws forward into her skin, not nearly hard enough to hurt, just firm enough to let the girl know she wasn't about to escape easily. "Here's how this game works. I come up with a challenge, and if you win, you can punish me however you like." The blood-eyed beast tipped his jaw so that his fangs might graze the outer edge of her audit, words caressing and shaded, a stripe of satin in a private place. "But if I win . . . I get to punish you."