Firefly Glen Take you like a drug;

Cole's eyes remained steady on her, the faintest hint of amusement softening his gaze as he watched her with a silent, unspoken understanding. He’d seen the sharpness in those who fought their way to a meal, the tension in their shoulders, the guarded way they held themselves. The whisper of a warning in her tone only made him huff softly, unconcerned.

A hungry animal should never be cornered, he said quietly, his voice carrying a touch of that roughened charm. He meant it—respectful of the hunger that could turn any creature wild, willing to let her take what she needed without the slightest sign of fear or judgment. The way she guarded her meal, the fierce set of her jaw, only made his regard grow.

There’s nothing wrong in taking what keeps you strong, he remarked, his tone a mixture of quiet acceptance and resilience. He respected the instinct, the survival drive, and if she claimed more, he’d not begrudge her that.