There were a select few who saw the softer and more tender side of the dunalino sulking about in the thick jungle, gold eyes watching the shadow that is his mate from a safe distance. If she knew he was here she didn’t let on just yet, and so he bides his time, ever silent and patient when assessing what lay before him. His Switch was his one and only, but recent events left him wondering about his own afflictions and how his select taste had opened up to include a blue eyed hell cat that was dead set on intruding upon everything the male had ever known. It was unnerving, and an unnatural feeling that sends shivers down his spine in delight.

Focus, he chides himself. This moment was for her, not for him.

From here he can smell her heavy perfume, as if she’d taken the time to fully saturate the area in the hopes of attracting not only himself, but just about every other bachelor that called the lagoon their home. He would kill them, as he wanted to do to that cocky little colt who thought he could touch his woman; he was not worthy, but then again neither was Fiero at the moment. He knows what waits for him as soon he is within striking distance, her fury could never be rivaled by just how badly he had wronged not only her, but their son as well. Fuego was a burning fuse just itching to get set off. Thankfully the boy took to feeding his father well thought out stories in the hopes the dunalino would combust on the spot.

Fiero is silent still in his approach when slipping out of the foliage, body sliding along anything it could touch to cover her scent with his own. “Switch”, her name falls from twitching lips that seek the skin of her hip, nostrils flaring as he breathes in not only her scent but a rather familiar one as well that cools the fire that had been bubbling just under his own flesh. “Naughty little shadow,” he is drunk on her, exhaling his warm breath over her, admitting to both herself and him that she had given something so precious away and he deserved every bit of it. What a dangerous combination Khajiit and his woman were, both exotic in their own right and had him by the tail eager to do their bidding. His wandering nose moves up her back, his chest pushing into the side of her barrel as he all but draps himself over her so that he could add to their conjoined scent’s.

“My love,” he peppers whiskered kisses along her inky black skin, wishing he could get even closer but he knows he pushes her buttons even now, eager for the violence she would no doubt throw his way. He is a coiled spring, tensed against her for the slightest change in her body language, but he is also tempted to stay grounded and accept her seething mood. Fiero could only hope his whispering and light touches lit her fire in a much different way.