Neverwinter Forest Clean & Jerk

Tonravik ........... man .........

A mild amount of pain blossomed in her shoulder when his head made contact. All the better for him; when the head was numb, one hardly felt the pain of anything else. But there were plenty of negative consequences that came with it. He was already a wolf lacking a brain... but as he continued to speak Tonravik worried for an instant that she'd made him dumber than when he came. Tonravik again lashed out as he spoke; he wasted his breath, and her "patience". But as she moved, he, too, moved with the same intent. Her chin was tucked, and so when his muzzle tried to wedge beneath hers to land a lick to beneath her chin, he'd only succeeded in lapping at the side.

Oddly enough, that move appeased her. It was akin to the chin lick, which any wolf knew to be submissive (even if that had not been the direction he had meant to go in). Tonravik rest her weight then on all fours, moving to again attempt to grip his muzzle while his face was so horrifyingly close to her own. Tonravik did not need his blood, now. Just his quiet, and his muzzle in between her jaws, which, if she succeeded, she would not crush, simply release. I'm in charge.