the blinding light that plagues their dreams

Morgan · February 13, 2019, 02:38 PM

He had just finished running down a fox, thick burles of muscle and earthen fur came crashing down on top of a fox that had just barely touched the newest cache Gwen had just laid down. Squealing came from the stretched narrow maw of the fox as it squirmed and tried snapping and wriggling from under the mountainous brute. But the ruffian wasn’t letting go any time soon, and while he wasn’t a polished and pristine killer as he had spied Cry to be, he knew how to get the job done. But as heavy jaws made for the back of his quarry’s neck, a melodious song spun his ears and stopped both he and the fox in the middle of their squabble.

She was a’callin- and his name was all up in it.
He pulled himself off of the fox, the 160 pounds lifting and giving the prey a chance to breathe, again. But a stiff kick from one of his hinds forced it far off into the lands, spurring it to scramble to its feet. “Piss off, and don’t let none of us catch you round here again,” deep baritones followed after the fleeing fox before he jolted himself to that wonderful woman.

He pulled himself where his auds told him that nice song came from, and eventually he spied her. Dark and pretty, mysterious and spicy, she was a girl that both let him ride and bucked him free like a wild mustang, and it roped around his heart hard enough to wheel barrel him right here, right now. Champagne golds settled over that temptress’ body as he came into her presence. “You rang, Vetty?”