Herbalists' Cache but my aching soul

gjalla felt the satisfying jolt of impact as she crashed into him, heard the breath leave his chest, and for a moment—just a brief, fleeting moment—she thought she had him. her teeth found their mark, sinking into the thick fur at his ruff, her hold firm, claiming.

he was just as quick, just as relentless.

a sharp twist, and suddenly, his teeth were at her nape, seeking flesh between his fangs. gjalla snarled, low and vicious. her own grip tightened in a heartbeat before she could wretch herself from his grasp, twisting just enough to drag him down with her.

if she was going down, he was coming with her.