Stone Circle ᛊᛁᛞᛁᛏᛁᚱ

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ᚦ — he laughs—deep, coarse, full of bloodlust.
her teeth had found him. her fire had followed. and now she came again, drawn by his roar, by his call to war. her fangs flash for his tongue—bold, mad, glorious!
his body catches her again, broad chest bracing as he digs into the earth to meet her—to take her with full force, to wrestle her now; to the ground, to slam viciously and knock the breath from her lungs. his breath snarls from his throat, ragged, thrilled. hooting now a war thrill bellow, call to arms; hearing how it rings through his woodland and calls the gods down.
his blood runs hot, his eyes wild. jaws parting to find the fur and hide of her neck, her scruff, her throat; anywhere he might grab and cut air from her. to not spill her blood but to steal the very life from her—unless she begs for mercy! (or cries uncle.)