Bearclaw Valley some kind of metal made up from glue

he was upon her in an instant, incensed and mistrustful. that split second was all it took for him to pin her down, teeth at her throat --
ripping
snarling
astara flung her head back, the flash of long incisors bared as they raked for face, for fur, for anything -- feeling pain slake her senses, a flare of red among glistening black.
she was doused by an animus' lust for flesh and violence both, fighting, grappling, loving, as the dark serpent moved impetuously within her.