Duskfire Glacier stolen breath

she was too quick. a flurry of white and pink that even his trained eyes struggled to track. beneath him, slinking below his belly, leaving him to lean down to try and snap his jaws, to sink his teeth into that plush fur and drag her from beneath. 

and then she's lunging at his scruff, her teeth grazing the thick muscle of his shoulder. it doesn't sting, but it's enough to cause a frenzy in his mind. there's a shroud then, that falls over his it. the muzzle being released, a glimpse of an enemy old that startles his system. reboots it, brings out the man he was forced to become.

she circles him as if he's prey, and for a moment, as he leaps toward her again to overwhelm and shove, she isn't keshka. but an enemy. a target. there's a glaze over his eyes, a guttural snarl that doesn't sound familiar to his own ears.