Moonspear I've become a simple souvenir of someone's kill

From up close, she took what she could get. Seemed like that was going to be leg after a little shift between them, which that could cost him some maneuvering. After all, she doesn't really know his rhythm either. Maybe he barely knew his own, but this was still new, and she was just glad for any motion whatsoever. When she set her teeth into the grip on his rear leg, she tried to be gentle-ish but firm, though reflexes were hard to measure.

Next he had gravity on his side and with her held fast onto him (not that it seemed to slow him down much), he did get her hip this time--so she had to give him that much, said so with a subtle shift. That made her let go of him with a quiet hiss then. She distantly wondered if he'd see the old scars; she had a pretty good feeling he was getting close, but suddenly she wondered what he'd intended to do by getting her close enough to capture. She wasn't going to make whatever it was easy, hopefully, and would try to bend herself in half to bite back at him, biting him away by hazing the side of his neck or chest--not discriminating, though, until she got free or his next moves dictated something else.