Dragoncrest Cliffs I have sharp teeth inside my mouth,

Sitiyok rumbled, again─the note so low and throaty that it rattled loudly deep in his chest. She slithered against his side, nipping at his legs to get him moving once more and he bade her wishes with long, ground-eating, strides. He pressed his body into her own, willing them to simply meld together so that he might partake of the cold fire that he desired. They covered the ground together, as a pair, and he pressed his cheek to her own, unwilling to grant her space. They were together; it was in body, mind, and soul. The swarthy rogue had not come to the Teekon Wilds to find his future, but protect his past. Perhaps, now, he was doing both.

She led them to a large, secluded sanctuary, nestled deep beneath an overhang that overlooked the roaring sea. The waves crashed against the shale, but only the spray which was carried on the breeze reached their fur. It clung to his guardhairs, masking their scent from would be tresspassers. Sangilak moved away, clearing the perimeter for any sign of danger, while he stood guard over their flank. Not a soul in sight.

Her whine directed his attention to her again, and he moved swiftly to meet her. His footsteps covered the uneven ground with the grace of a practiced mountaineer. He pressed his chest to her side and draped his neck over her back, lashing his tongue over her flank. He was not predesposed to romance; his affections were rough, and unshackled. Sitiyok moved past the she-wolf and turned, pressing his wet nose to the base of her tail. He raised his own banner high, where it waved proudly above his back. He growled possessively, passionately, and rose up to grasp her firmly betwixt his forelimbs as he pulled her in close, seeking the fire, but mindless to anything but the great and powerful need.