Wild Berry Meadow or in our eyes, every time they meet

they encircled each other as sharks often do, each stripping down the other's essence with eyes hungry for weakness.

if he was a shark, she was the kraken -- and if she was the lioness, osiris was the lion: his muscles rippled under a neat pelt, his eyes never leaving her.

leave, he commanded -- even his voice had been shed entirely of the youth which had possessed it their last meet.

astara's tail tip twitched with amusement.

if he was not going to come to her, she would bring it to him. mid-step, she broke the circle and aimed a flurry of furious snaps at his cheek in a second driveby. if she made contact, fine -- if she didn't, no matter -- she would circle and try again.