Fairspell Meadow The Count

The fawn finally succumbed to his cruel jaws, and he licked the blood from his maw, savoring the metallic tang. A feminine voice surprised him, as he tended to get tunnel vision when hunting or in a fight. She appeared calm, so he himself remained relaxed when he turned to face her. However, if this stranger was approaching him, he suspected she wanted some of his prize. He took notice of her numerous scars. Would she be willing to fight him for it? The thought filled him with excitement.

Interested? He asked, cutting to the chase, though he appeared far from serious with the lazy grin on his face. He said no more than that, curious on how the woman would respond.