Emberflame Ridge beat your breasts, young (m)aidens

She appraised him, hawkish.

The man did not wait long before he closed the distance between them, stiff-legged himself, stalking; his pride ruffled his furs but he bowed his head low and snaked to where she waited, tasting the air. Thrilled by what he found.

Still, he would not touch her. The threat of teeth from either of them remained true: he would not be turned away, but neither would he stop himself from retaliation should she strike at him.

A low note rumbled in his chest, the closest thing to a question he would utter.