Hoshor Plains suburban muse

injury can just be a generic gash on the leg, not too deep. Kick her ass a little too its only fair.

She'd dug in properly, and his flailing did not help to free him, instead serving to rake her firm jaws a little further. She was latched on, at least for a moment before she'd relinquish the limb and shuffle away in a swift scurry. He calls her a bitch with passion on his spittle and only then does she realize how shes erred. It was reflex, and it betrayed her.

His blood dripped from her lips, slicked the pearly ivory of her fangs and painted a flowing river of his filthy, rancid ichor down her chin. Oh, she had bit far deeper than she'd meant to. How would she explain this to the others?

She trembled slightly at the thought of retribution. Her limbs beheld a sudden shiver, and she looked at him frantically. YOU STARTED IT!? She yips.

....This was it. She'd have to kill him. He said he'd do it to her, so really what other choice was there?

She shouldn't kill him?!? What?! What kind of thinking was that?? But maybe if he wasn't found.. NO!? YES?? This was not how things were supposed to go.

On the cusp of uncertainty, she hurled himself after him.