Emberwood [m]Reach for light.

“Shit!” a hiss forced from between his teeth. His mouth groaned and his ears were warm with his own blood. The crow womans. All blood, all he could feel, and though he knew deeply- so, so deeply that he should not care whose life drenched his pelt now, he did. How it had been his that he knew was beginning to overwhelm- how he knew it was his that was rendering him cold with its unending heat, and when the blades of her teeth sat nicely against his throat, it was the slow recoil of her body that made him breath roughly.

”Shit,” slipped again from his lips. “Damn, you pack a- FUCKING punch! Alright, alright, you win!” Inhale. Exhale.

“Fuck.” 

Pooling out on the grass, he felt his tongue roll across it as he came to a blurry, blurry stand. He felt no anger. Only tested will and strength, and for what his pain tolerance had been- she had tested it greatly and only now, again, could he truly begin to feel it.

He knew that had not been a death match.
Or he’d have long killed her, or she’d have long killed him.
She would know that by the blood that matted her fur by her flank. From the blood that did not rip violently from her throat, her eyes- he did not play nice.
And so to him it was obvious that it had been no more than toying with flesh.