Whitebark Stream don't think we need to engage in any pleasantries

This was not the first time she had been cornered. Probably wouldn't be the last, either. Colt enjoyed these kinds of games; taking power in small increments, forcing her back against the deer corpse.
Where before Indra might have averted her eyes or done whatever she could to appease him, she was riled from the brief show of aggression, the hot blood in her throat, the meat in her belly. Feeling herself, more or less.
Wild-hewn. Embrous. A look that said, do I? As she pushed back in tiny increments to test him, as he tested her.