Dragoncrest Cliffs [m] salt settling

Russet hips lurched with her teasing, the gentle tickle of her tail an unexpected, welcome friend. The prodding of his kiss replaced by focused panting. Her flavor lingered in his mouth, standing his scruff’s thick fur on end. He let her intrude his own muzzle, feeling her softness against his own, the tingle of her fur against his bared lips. 

Prey fighting back, aimless bites, a plea for freedom. She’d find none here. 

The gentle drone of a rumbling growl in the wolf’s chest emerged fully as a sharp snarl, a retaliation to her bite. Sharp teeth guided an attack aimed at the soft flesh of her neck, intended only to frighten, not harm. He just needed to see it again. The familiar expression of finality. The shock, terror.. the desperation.