A single drop of blood drips from his blackened muzzle that gleams from the saturation of the fox's life force, falling to splatter upon the rock where she lays. Only centimeters separate it from the white of her forepaws, and it is then that she rises and his sickly eyes trace up the length of her legs to the contours of her bodice. The hum of her answering growl only serves to titillate his need for domination. His desire to snap forward, grab her leg, and uproot her only sustained by the wash of her wintery scent as it drafted forward with her movement. The skin along the bridge of his nose pinches together as he draws his lips back further, tongue curling forward as his nostrils flare and the snarl in his throat plateaus to a constant, low thrum. His teeth clack together in displeasure at her momentary station of him, demanding her movement. He will have her, but perhaps not in the sense that had overcome him when he looked upon her from across the pond.

Her words fall upon deaf ears, for they hold little and less meaning to him. It is not that he does not understand speech, but rather that the context holds no import. Instead, he is more focused on her movements as she leaps down to stand on even ground with him. His chin lowers as he tracks her every step, hungry eyes practically eating her up as she circles him. She is small, her stature falling well below his and her weight would be easy to throw around once he got a good hold on her. His white ears flick irritably as she speaks again and his growl rolls heatedly. The answer he gives it perhaps not what she sought, but one she deserved.

His jaws flashed towards her, seeking to place a harsh nip upon the point of her hip as she passes by him. It was his way of testing her reception to him, to the violent dance that he had so often engaged in with Jaidah. A way to relieve his need for brutality, when no true prey was available. His body pivots to follow her movements, eyes flashing from where he would have left a trace of blood upon her pelt if his aim had been true to her hackles, where he so desires to bury his fangs and pull her beneath him. But he waits, receptive to her reaction, and craving her fangs in his own flesh just as much.

Reaver

NINE - 42 IN/216 LBS - LONER