Cedar Sweep Western Red Cedar

He admitted her ownership over the rabbit, didn't bother to argue with her- which stirred this nice, warm fuzzy feelin' inside. Most woulda just lied. She snickers, furthering her weight on one paw, enough to bring forth further blood from a shallow mark; polluting the air fruther with its enticing scent.

'Poor form' she echoes in a higher tone, a mocking lilt to the melody with which she parrotted it back. Still caught it didn't I? I think you should be worryin' about your own form. she let her eyes rake over his figure, up, then down, just to send the message plainly.

She knew hunger, how it ravaged you, mind, body and soul. The quiver of a lip that fought back drool, his gaze, avoiding what he knew would sate the angry gnawing inside.

She knew that feeling, in more ways than one.

Envy met his gaze again, a burning intensity aflicker in hues of vibrant crimson. A game come to mind! ...You wan' it...? She asked now, her head leaned to the side.

Clear in the weight of her words, this offer was no kindness of her heart.