Herbalists' Cache caribou crash

her reaction draws a soft laughter from the man, though it is quickly replaced by the stern set of his brow, darkening his red eyes once more. stomping, now, his feet the muted thud of stomping. he assesses her. he hears in his mind what sun eater had said—what he had offered.

i am. the words roll off his tongue, bitten with power, with agitation. in the way his muscles twitch beneath a hide of onyx and silver, it is clear he needs an outlet. he wants for her to be that outlet. and he thinks the best way to prove himself a prospective mate to her is with a show of strength. she knows already he is an apt hunter. now, should they not fight? why, do i scare you? a tease upon his tongue.

the tongue that flicks across his teeth, dragging slowly along his dark and scarred snout. you cannot know how the fight will go. he prospects to her, chin jutting outwards as he comes closer, rolling meaty shoulders, squaring his dance before her. both presenting himself and anticipating a fight.

come, feel my strength.