Hoshor Plains grinning

her voice was a low-burning brogue that took no notice of the fact that she had been faced with murder. had he eyelids on one side to blink, perhaps merrick might have done that now. his toothmarks rose high and sullen on her own shoulder.
"whatever you want," came the thorny glut of his voice; his teeth flashed again; dance;
dance;
dance on porcelain paws.
merrick found her thistledown eyes with his own single orb of piratic gold gleaming wild in the mountains.
what would she see there now but bloodborne desire? the bear whispered like flames beneath his breastbone.