Qeya River maybe on the dark side, we could be together

The charge of the air shifted very marginally between them, but it was not a change that fell on the blind. Warbone felt an insistence to her touch, and he was similarly roused by an instinctive response to her actions that welled inside of him like a mushroom cloud. The severe lines of his face grew sharper as he watched every move of her coquettish dance, and for every step she took away from him, he pursued her. The dance went like this for the barest of moments, the fur at his shoulders rippling anxiously as he tried to mask the anticipation of earning something she might not have been yet ready to give. But their blood called to one another regardless, ignoring the laws of time and space as they began to battle once more— a deeper, far more connecting tango— as he sought to earn from her a prehistoric reaction to his virile manifestation.

The entirety of his body became rigid, inflamed by the nature of their game and the intention of winning it.