Greatwater Lake marathon

Her eyes went dark, and she flashed him her teeth in warning. A faint growl laced her next words, the fur bristling along her back, "Do not presume to tell me what my body needs, consort." It would irk him to be called this, for Greyjoy was one of the most loyal men to follow the Nereides. He would always be a consort, but he had proven his dedication time enough that the sirens typically offered him slightly better treatment and title. She knew he was correct, though her stomach roiled at the thought of red meat; but this exchange was all part of their dance.

"I wouldn't wish for you to wet your paws," she said airily, moving towards the kill before delicately tearing off a piece of flesh. Aktaiê chewed slowly, carefully, and did her best not to think of the red blood that washed down her throat.