"Was it despair?", she muses back to herself, ears tilting at the shifting of sounds behind her, a thrill of chills climbing up her spine soon after as the hot breath of Tyr came even closer. He'd never admit it out loud, but she got under his skin. As she mulled over his words a little more his teeth chose then to close down right where her neck and back met, a tight vice that rendered her silent for the moment. It was a punishing grip he held her with, and while some would have fought against it, Dara let her head fall forward to further feel the grip of his teeth on her flesh as muscles tensed and strained to be pulled away. A delightful shiver takes her body, her heart pounding in her ears at the sudden rush of feeling that was familiar.

It had been too long without him.

His warning is one she takes seriously, knowing he’d do exactly as his words demanded; kind of him to give her such a choice though. The old beast would have done it, warning or not. She is silent as she rises, shaking the snow from her dark coat as leg’s slowly unfurl and stretch her upwards to her height; nowhere near her god’s own towering self but it gives her the leverage to look him in the face without straining. A turn of her hips has her fully facing him, pointedly moving her hind end away from his whiskered muzzle that stayed so near, so close. The time for them to come together had passed, there was nothing for him to take with snow fresh on the ground and a chill in the air. One child went to wherever and the other a cold body surely turned to bones by now; why give the fates a chance to provide them with more children to disappoint and forget?

“I have nothing left for you to take,” she spits at him, a tensed and coiled spring again, all while her dark tresses whip at the backs of her legs; a sting of pain to remember where she was. She wanted to throw it at him, the loss of their child, to blame him for it all. His attempt to get to them in the falls that day had ruined her, and ruined whatever twisted life she was trying to build without him. Dara had been mad, fueled by the way he’d treated her, but hadn’t she asked for it all?

She’d made him into what he was, but what he’d turn into was not of her doing. She inclines her head, tilting it in thought all while letting out a shaky breath that hitches on a small laugh bubbling up from her throat. “Look at us,” again Dara laughs, louder this time, looking upwards into the dense overheard that felt as though it was closing in around them. Unsteady from the head rush she takes a stumbling step forward, and the another until she could feel his heat and touch her whiskered muzzle to the skin she’d longed to touch. A tender moment, cautious even, as her lips trail along his shoulder and upwards to the pale fronds of his hair that dangle so temptingly in front of her.

“LOOK AT US!”, she is quick, grabbing a suitable mouthold of his mane and rearing herself back, like a dog trying to get the toy they so desperately wanted. Hooves plant themselves into the ground to keep herself from sliding and providing her the perfect purchase to dig into the slick ground and just yank, seeking retribution for it all.

Consequences be damned.