Shy Deer Steppes sotuknang

The pale woman's voice was cold as it passed her lips. Her words did not share the same warmth as her gaze, but even still the hound was captivated by the sight of her form and the gentle curves of her body. It did not matter to him how antisocial she was, or how she stood warily watching him from her position in the snow. She had returned his greeting, and so Ithrik felt that he had earned some footing in their conversation. He slunk forward a few steps and then stopped again to draw his gaze over her frame hungrily. She was not a pup, but she still smelled like a woman and it was beginning to drive him to madness.

Once, his pink tongue lashed out from the cage of rotten fangs and ran against his muzzle before it slithered back inside and sat patiently for a treat. “You have lovely eyes,” he remarked to her in the same tone – high and lilting. Goosebumps tickled his flesh underneath his black and white coat. He shuddered softly against the gentle breeze before casting a grotesque smile in her direction.

“I should like to taste them.”