Firefly Glen wild things

For the first time in this whole event, the male retreated, tongue lolling and saliva pooling from the edges of his lips. It was a clear sign that he was tired, and though Hydra's own sides inflated and deflated with deep draughts of breath she was not winded as he was. The opportunist in her dared her to try her hand at striking now, but the logical side of her told her to take this opportunity for what it was: the safest way out. Hydra remained where she was and watched as he turned and looked at her—despite logic prevailing, the fire within her eyes matched his own. Blue flames licked around the edges of her pupil, and her stance remained proud. After all, she had not backed away from this. Neither of them had lost this battle. She respected his strength, and perhaps he might respect her swiftness.