Silvertip Mountain Mind of Stone, Heart of Glass

The colors that continuously bounces off of them and the surrounding area still amazing him and for a second he actually seeks refuge from her gaze by looking to the patterns painted along the walls. He is going to lose it. He’s already burning up from the physical exertion of killing that wolverine. Now he fears he might jump the poor woman if he stares at her any longer. He’s sure she won’t  mind, but he wants to see how far he can take her. He wonders why he’s even hesitating. He’s confident in his ability to do just about anything, yet even when the most obvious signs of attraction continue to bitch slap him across the face, he finds himself hindered.

Still panting he shakes himself off and languidly settles his eyes back on the bloodied wolf. Instantly, as if the thoughts never even crossed his mind, he wants to do something that he’ll either get praised for; or his ass beat for. He is most definitely willing to rake the risk in the heat of the moment.

So Donovan saunters over there, confidence in his languid step. He looks to her like she’s something worth eating. He’s unabashed at the the blatant want in his gaze. He continues walking around her backside and comes up beside her.

“I didn’t know you’d look so good in blood, dear.” He nearly growls into her ear. The side of his body pressed up to hers. “I could help you clean that off if you’d like.” He offers with a shit eating grin.