Redhawk Caldera jaguar

He watched the fox-furred wolf eat, fascinated by her only because his loins dictated that he should be. Now, Kaizer wasn't a fickle man by any means— he had never thrown himself so vigorously or so quickly into a cause before— but he felt particularly driven to preform for her; a fact which could only be attributed to her stiflingly beckoning heat. Even when it was gone, if she allowed him to do so, he would remain. He would because he had spoken to her (pledged his services, really) and Bluesummer did not speak unless there was meaning behind it. Silence was his truest self; the wolf he would revert to when there was nothing else.

She only served to make herself more violently attractive by splattering gore. The renewed smell of blood and the nearness of her soul-siphoning heat drew from him a low, aching whine out the pit of his stomach. He had to force himself back onto his haunches, before randiness made him reckless. Licking his chops, and shifting in his seat, blue eyes glanced away from her briefly as he strained to keep himself polite.