Porcupine Ridge redbull

lorcan watches her with the eyes of a chained predator. her strides are rough, unsteady, but there. it’s enough. for now. he slows just a fraction, falling in beside her. the edges of his scarred muzzle twitch into something faintly resembling approval.

this is good, he murmurs to her and his words are like the rumble of distant thunder. he leans in close, dragging his tongue slowly over her ear, tasting her scent as he does so. it’s not soft, not really, but it's hers.

i’m proud, he says simply, the words rough but genuine in their own sharp-edged way. his shoulder brushes against hers. he doesn’t know where they’re going. not yet. but it doesn’t bother him. they’re moving, and that’s what matters. staying still isn’t an option—not for him, not for her.

lorcan exhales softly, the warmth of his breath curling into the icy air.