Kildeer Rest [m] ford

the bitch realized too late that she now danced with something bestial. the open invitation was all that kukuvrak needed (if he even cared for that). he knew that tartok needed bodies—that the woman was a vessel for that purpose.
this was the work of Sos! he was gleeful in his own realization. the coagulated sheep blood now dragged chest to hips across her, marking a claim in the name of his god.
kukuvrak relented for only a moment, witnessing that breath of freedom, that hope which lurched through the woman as she thought, 'freedom?!'.
but he was upon her again, teeth to her nape, forelimbs wrapping her middle. laughter barked from him as he felt fur being torn free and after adjusting his grip against her writhing, kukuvrak knew he was not far from his prize.
if she hoped to survive this she would give in. he would not stop—it was Sos who worked through him now.