Blackfeather Woods the radio station disappears, music turned into thin air

she held his gaze firmly; he was struck by how unafraid she seemed despite their isolation from the outside world. he was used to women turning upon him with fear, with terror -- and relmyna stood before him absent of any palpable dread in her features.

he ducked his head beneath the webbed roots and advanced towards her, taking her relaxed bearing as invitation. they were close and he could scent beneath the musk of the dry air her flesh; he could feel the heat of her small body. his heart thrummed a bold tune against his chest as arousal riled within him - in careful steps he circled her in that narrow corridor, pulling closer with each collapsed lap until he was nearly brushing flank to flank with her thin frame.

and then, should she not protest by way of fang or fury, he would rifle his nose along her rawboned hips in wanting. he was not by any means a lover; she would find no titillating foreplay - no heightened or ginger prelude. should his advancements remain unobstructed he would rear up alongside her and place his limbs around her neck in a hug. he would remain perpendicular to her flank then, and test his reception with a deep growl into her scruff.