Ocean's Breath Plateau seized from the depths

They tore away from one another like spirited beasts, nary a blow placed between wolfish coats and lean muscles. He had caught her off guard, his ploy a success, and much to his satisfaction. He stayed on her then, scarcely letting go of the lead he had dictated as they stepped and twisted over tiny knolls and through the wave of verdant grasses.

But he let her depart from his frame but once, to compose herself better as not to poorly bedeck such fluidity; she sprang back toward him and now it was his turn to backpedal and twist, to fend off good natured snaps with more vengeance than necessary and all for show. Dirge did not pull his gaze from her and did not entirely pull himself out of her long reach—if anything he was bold enough to want to draw her closer, to risk the snare and sting of teeth to flesh and tease.

Yet he tired of playing follower and fiddler, and wormed his way around as they tore across their stage, as if some invisible barrier crossed would send them tumbling into the audience below. He sought to draw her to his side, to lead her about if she would permit, and perhaps take the upperhand firmly as to who was leading who.

likewise; first paragraph is more filler and fluff than anything to be honest.