Sawtooth Spire set fire

Truth of the matter was that it had been some time since the sharply-cut male had actually been in an altercation. As a drifter, the spider used wits over brawn in nearly every situation, providing lack of scarring, bloodshed, and broken skin. There was always something simmering beneath the surface of the beast but there was also intelligence of knowing when to fight and when to run. One had to conserve energy. 

The pummel to his neck was accepted without any effort to thwart it, curling body nonchalantly and folding inky body neatly beneath the female's rugged stature with a somersault. It was a motion of defeat, sincerely disinterested in revealing all cards on this first, intimate interaction. Jaws tucked into throat, ears propped upright in a cheesy stare of innocence. Spine and haunches cut into the harsh terrain, little padding there to cup the sinuous animal comfortably. 

As if lack of trying weren't insult enough, the spider flicked tongue over nose, hoping the action just-so-happened to touch the female's leg in a desperate attempt to taste the fur that lay there. Fiery stare held the face above him, intently sweeping the icy features there for the disgust that was sure to come.