Broken Antler Fen Nothing compares to when the smoke settles and you're the last [m]an standing.

reyes was upon her, crimson and terrible, snorting a victory through his muscular body. so close he was now that teya could smell the wet earth of the fen upon him, the rich sharp sage, the oakwood where they had first been. 
he smelled of brecheliant.
the quills along her shoulderline smoothed, flattened, and she gave a slow wave of her tail. the coolwater eyes warmed to something suspended.
teya waited to see what reyes might do, the blaze of his breath dragonlike above her.