Duskfire Glacier burn

her fury is meth with his steel. wildling crashing against wildling; a battle that would linger with time. one long overdue. she not only welcomed the pain he would inflict; she savored it. a tinder that once simmered now an inferno. Svalla did not wish for him to treat her as if she was something delicate. she wanted him to meet her with teeth, with muscle. with a rage that ignited something primal. a heat in her veins that wasn't just the thrill of the fight, but something deeper.

"kominn tími til." she muses with sharp tongue. "i am no girl, faust. do no insult me." a snarl, wild and true. and he does not; not now. another ram against her side that sends her toppling; his claws catching against the skin of her throat, bathing the ivory with a deep red. blood that would stain as a reminder. Svalla hits the ground with a rough exhale, her paws flying to press against his trachea. keeping those jaws of his away from her while putting pressure against his throat. her smile is feral and wild; her eyes even fiercer. 

she wishes to feel it all. each shove, each bite, each tear. to feel him in his prime; to witness his strength in full. it was a dance she knew well. a challenge she would not refuse. the last time he'd had her pinned, Faust had scolded her. forced her into submission. she would not allow it again. she kicks, aiming for his soft underbelly, all while snapping upward to aim for his muzzle.