Whitebark Stream I put off saying I love you, oh, oh

salvatore.

she speaks his name; soft. it causes a delightful shiver to slither down his spine, marveling over how his name could possibly sound so enticing. ❝kaori,❞ he murmurs in return; emberglow eye watching her. her posture appears open and inviting though she herself does not close any distance between them. he ghosts forward a step and hesitates. the careful swish of her tail tempts him to keep closing it just as wholly as every aching fibre of his being does.

for a second, he swears he feels the flash of teeth, the saturation of hot breath upon the back of his neck. even thousands of miles away he hears the growling command of killgrave that he is nothing, that if he wants to keep breathing he better walk away; but salvatore was the rebel child and ignores the haunting abuse of his warmonger father as he did back in the loch.

salvatore draws nearer to kaori; nearer still. when he is close enough, if she allows it, he will brush his muzzle against her cheek. this close to her, her scent is overpowering; all he can smell. it saturates everything, temptation manifested; causing the ache in his loins to quicken as it does his heart rate, his nerves prickling with anticipation.