Serpent Lake i can feel a kick down in my soul

She was not the only one to feel intoxicated, mind hazy, filled with clouds as their breath amalgamated in the air. One part of the stoic man was mildly pleased that she had not fled from his presence, as though the girl was caught in a tight web strung from his toes, and yet another part of him was wary - perhaps it was not truly he who controlled the net, but she. Perhaps the soldier himself was ensared, wrapped in the laces of her creation. He was dazed, confused, but he refused to allow such an expression to pass over his features.

The Svartell sensed her breath catch in her throat, he saw the tight clench of her jaw and resisted the urge to permit his lips to curl up again in a smirk; her cold demeanor was beginning to crack, though in the depths of his stomach he could almost feel the unease slithering up like the caress of a snake, for she was not the only one to be slipping. The slow exhale of his breath would tickle down the back of her neck, and the surface of his skin almost shivered at her touch - what was she doing? 

He felt a deep rumble grow deep within his chest, but it would not slip from his jaws, simply reverberate from inside like the grumbling of a volcano, or the echo of thunder as it ripped through the sky. A challenge she met him with, and one he would accept. While the adrenaline continued to course through his veins, the reaper prowled closer until the fur lining their chests were touching, and his muzzle pressed into her back. His teeth lightly traced the dip between her shoulder blades, icy gaze flickering back to gauge her reaction to his movements - he wanted to see her break beneath his touch.