Blackfeather Woods even the darkness has arms

The pallid woman did well at hiding her fear, but this only worked to bolster his aggression. Ithrik despised the brash boldness of her gaze and the quiet hiss that erupted through her teeth. The voice in his mind urged him to lunge for her. The devil wanted to see if she was just as strong with his body atop her own. It was not likely that she would let him, but he had very little to lose to those woods. More so than wanting to bend her to his will, he wished to snap his fangs against her muzzle to silence her quiet warnings. Ithrik would not let her have her way; he would not depart. Bristling pelt, the devil curled his lip and growled softly. The black of her eyes was compelling. He only wished that he could take the dark markings along with the blue of her gaze. She did not intimidate him, but then again... very little did. Drawing his pink tongue along his muzzle, he lowered his head to protect his throat from any unwanted attempts at an attack and moved to step closer to her. Ithrik wanted to smell her fear.