Blackbeak Bluff vér kalóz

he did not move; her fangs cleaved the air before his nose, and she stood glaring at him, much too close for her own comfort. yet the man did not attack; his gritted words went unheeded, and the countess gripped the cold sands with her paws as he shoved his muzzle against her own. the hard tint of his eyes burned into the umber of her own, and still erzsébet did not stand aside.

their meet could take many a turn; perhaps he would seek to slash her, and she would be forced to defend herself, or maybe he would turn and abandon her here. "i see no army at your back," she growled into the scant few centimetres of space left between their lips. a brow arched; a smirk appeared. "you shall have to offer more than ugly words to convince me of my own submission."