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Saghani was observant to his every movement, his every twitch. She herself was unaggressive toward him, and in devouring the many scents that clung to him Saghani felt her own degree of possessiveness. Her own resistance to what was to occur was futile; she was a physical being, and as his muzzle dragged against her in its caress, Saghani did not move against it. In fact, growling throatily to spur him onward. Saghani relented to him, revealing herself to this perfect stranger. Saghani had been looking for someone with his audacity and his purpose; it meant he had the makings of a leader, it meant that he, like she, knew how to take what he wanted and make it his own. Was that not what they were doing? Was that not the purpose of those who had ambition? Saghani stepped backward, her consent clear. Another growl, hungry, summoning: take.