Duskfire Glacier [M] a place for your head

there comes a sharp intake of breath when she comes nearer. fast, quickly, her movements feline; a swooping head, graceful legs that draw his attention. he should feel guilt for even considering this, but there is none to be found; lost to the war that wages in his mind of shadow.
she is near and blackfell remains still for several long beats, not sparing her an inch. motionless, akin to a stoic stature. cursed and rooted to where he may remain for centuries to come. eyes flinching across her, taking in the sight she offers. the muscles of a huntress; she is not the prettiest woman he's seen, but he is not unattracted, either.
his tongue lashes out across his nose and snout, lapping generously. then, he shoves his nose into her scruff. taking three long, greedy draws of breath from the source of her hide. drinking in her scent, a shudder raking down his spine in response. his mind connects with his instincts—he should have her in his bed tonight.
an outlet. that was what she was. and he needed it, desperately, with the way he turned to a feral panting, moving to back her further into the den with his head. scenting his nose down the length of her flank, seeking out the base of her tail.