Honeyed Pasture sworn before a light of knife's edge white

He snorts when she confesses she might be the one to bite, a smile forming upon his features. At least she’s honest. The playfulness doesn’t go unnoticed and it drives him to find her a little sooner. When he hears the swish in grasses ahead, he comes to a stop and waits for her to break through the barrier and enters his space. He tries to keep himself smooth and pointed back through the grass to give her space lest she truly want to take a chunk out of him.
 
“Want to bite me?” he asks with a smirk, tail waving, causing the tall grasses behind him to swish back and forth.