Ravensblood Forest Baby's Breath

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The sound of the call was not what alarmed Ceannasach. It was the familiar scent of estrus. It was an alluring aroma, and one that Arturo knew well. It was unmistakable and it set every guard hair on edge as he neared her, his movements stiff, a low rumble leaving his lips as his tail curled over his back. Under normal circumstances, he was much more calm and collected. Yet, clearly, this was not normal circumstances. The large, pale woman was fresh into her estrus and though she tried to hide it her scent would attract suitors. Though the hormonal perfume she was emitting called to him (for he was a man, after all) he resisted; and he would continue to do so. He did not want children in Teaghlaigh. Not when it was still in it's late stages of forming, not in the winter, and not when they were still so new. Those who bred despite these rules, without his permission would suffer the consequences, as would their young. He loved children but he would not put a newborn Teaghlaigh in jepordy by allowing something he knew they were not ready for. If that meant taking the life of the young and newborn then that was what it meant.

“Why are you here?” He demanded, abandoning all pretenses of charisma and gentleman's etiquette. She was not the mummer who was the night sky and stars personified. Granted, he recently had a tumble in the sheets with a young willing and eager stranger but she hadn't been in estrus and he hadn't even given her his name. That had just been business. Arturo took a breath betwixt his parted jaws, fighting off the primal urges his body wanted him to make. He was no green boy and he would not be tempted.

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