Shadewood Just did a bad thing

It was like the speed of time changed to amplify every sensation, ever feeling. Slow when he pulled away just in time for her teeth to click lightly together, the feeling of having been so close to dragging them across his throat in a action that held the promise (however empty) of lethality stirring the long lost urges and instincts of the killer inside her. 

 Then his turn began and as he feinted left she kept her eyes upon him, dancing a graceful step in a direction unexpected, to the very left he had gone in. She had expected the move and though his fangs did indeed slice a cut across her shoulder she also lunged, her jaws aiming to grab the god by the side of his scruff as her legs sprang her backwards pulling him forward into his own momentum and pushing downward in the intent to press his face to the ground. Once again she dealt no damage except for maybe the sting of her grip, she didn't intend to ever really cause any true wounds, at least not yet. With her muzzle so close to his body she could smell him, smell how seriously he took this fight and how he too wanted this. The tangy scent of her blood began to fill the air, adding a deadly edge to the passion and sweat.