BARDOUL THE GHOUL
hound x unknown ardennes x friesian 16.2hh black, heavily scarred |
The beast sneered, "Doesn't need to be cold to lie with a woman." He'd done well enough for himself in the past, though the islands were a whole new experience for him. Where he had come from there was a certain allure to be a son of Hound. It came with a sense of power, his name had held weight. Here it did not matter who is bastard-king father was. He can remember his mother's words so clearly as a child, telling him about everything he would do. Everything he would become. And then Mutt had shown up and grabbed him by the scruff and dragged him all over. He'd earned his first scar that day. But not on his face. On his heart; as it was the last time Lyanna looked at him with anything but regret, pain-- even hatred.
Her purr vibrated against his teeth and he growled in response, tightening his grip for a moment before she yanks herself free. Her hooves find purchase on his shoulder and he plants his hoof, not shying away from her. "Do you think I fear death?" He laughs, booming and rasping all at once, and her teeth snake to his shoulder as if he were an unclaimed mare. There is a primal dance between them and he turns the favor, his own teeth aiming to snap at the sensitive skin along her spine.
"I don't offer death," his voice a puff of air on her skin. He turns, his good eye focusing on her despite the thick curl of mane that falls over his scar-riddled face. Her teeth find purchase in his withers, a spot where a scar from a previous fight sat rather proudly. A sharp intake of breath fell from his lips and he seemed to smile despite the grimace in his eyes. There was undeniably proof that it caused him pain, but he seemed to revel in it as he quickly turned, drawing a line across her barrel with his teeth before nipping at the skin of her hip. He purrs, crowding her with his presence.
"I offer so much more." |
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