Bearclaw Valley dancing with the devil

a spate of giggles poured from merrick as evien snapped, and snapped again. he was transformed from a careful traveling doctor beneath a fake veneer, a faulty passport that had given him access to merrick's border. the coywolf doubted the other had been tested a day in his life since departing. but there was good rich clay here, ready for the molding of fang and of blood.
"i think i do know you, beautiful," merrick crooned, keeping out of reach of the jaws that were beginning to champ for the plundering, the tense body chafing beneath a self-imposed rein. "you're a coward who tells yourself you want to heal, when really you want to see what it's like for someone else to choke on their vomit."
eyebrow arched; he teased, biting the air with tongue extended to taste the new air wafting in angry waves from evien. "i'll tell you anyway," he guffawed conversationally. "i killed her. snuffed her out. boom, gone."
i'll do the same to you, pretty cunt, pretty pretty pretty cunt
throat closed; merrick no longer wanted to do more talking. his ears were ready for the scream or the submission, and he lunged forward in silent attack to take it, take whatever he wanted while evien huffed and burned and began to catch fire.