Blackfeather Woods Bite me, banana man

How interesting. It seemed that Atshen had been the culprit, which frankly was no surprise and did not interest the boy. Yet the latter that she had said had him pause, and look to her emotionlessly. She liked them? The wounds, and by extension, the pain? Slowly, he moved near and placed his fangs over her shoulder, a small growl leaking from his maw. It was not a sound of anger, but one of question. Should she show any signs of agreement, slowly would he bite down, wanting to discover exactly if and why she held such an admiration for the bite marks. And if so, how exactly he could use that information to his advantage.