Firefly Glen well shit

She was aware of the other as soon as the slish-slosh of his steps came within earshot. A hot shiver slipped down her spine as she tensed up, her tail coiling against her hind legs - not in defense, but rather an innate protective motion over her kill. Lips peeled and fangs were laid bare, brows furrowing over hot, beady eyes that shot daggers in the direction of the noise. Noire was a beast of shadows, of death and chaos and an active force in shattering the status quo. Such formidable shades did not cower or wilt when their solitary is compromised.

Another approached, either ignorant of her presence or arrogantly assuming hospitality in this precarious, teetering situation. A low, simmering growl gurgled, like a distant thunder of a terrible storm, before growing in volume as she slowly turned her head to face him. Behind her lay her toy, her precious black-clad corpse, full of putrefying wounds and outlying bones. It was her trophy to keep, hers to possess and mutilate at her own whims, a memory of a simple victory in a complex world. Noire would burn the whole world down before giving any sort of quarter to this fucking nobody.

And then he paused. And she paused.

He didn't seem to be the idiot her first flickering thoughts conjured - only a fool would approach so daringly, so presumptuously. In the moment he paused, Noire was able to actually asses this stranger before her, this greyscale brute of a creature. The gurgling in her throat was set to low, ears twitching in mild irritation and the slightest hint of curiosity. There was muscle beneath that fur, and weight to his bones, though what lay behind his eyes was either true nothingness or cloaked behind effort. To say she was intrigued would give way to the delusion that the savage cared, but it'd be a lie to say some small second thoughts weren't present.

"Mine." Simple words were hissed grotesquely though clenched jaws, her voice low, grated, almost unrecognizable. It was the biggest courtesy she could offer the intruder - yes, intruder, she was here first after all - though some small part of her yearned for some refusal. It was simple enough for the beast to make an art of slaying the weak and unworthy, but to be frank it was almost tasteless when compared to the true skill required to face an opponent of equal measure.

With a slow, deliberate pacing, Noire would slowly uncoil from the soggy ground, turning to face perpendicular to the green-eyed male. Head hunkered down low, shielding her prize behind her, as her lips peeled to show her pretty yellowed fangs to the boy, making herself clear. I'm not here for coy games.

@Revui