Duskfire Glacier burn

the sight of his blood rolling through dark, wild fur is enough to make something primal bloom within her. it broils and aches; a seed planted that only he could cultivate. a yearning for more than just war and victory. her breaths are heavy and hot, exhaled into thick plumes as he retaliates. it is expected; he is a man that will not bow so easily. a force that would not break. it is a fact that doesn't deter her. it only makes her fight harder.

she is not on her feet for long. the heft of him crashes against her chest with bruising force. she hopes she aches in the morn; she wishes to feel this fight even long after the dust has settled and a victor been named. Svalla is knocked off balance quicker than she could anticipate. far quicker than she could have reacted. her back crashes into snow and frozen earth alike; a plume of glittering snow cloaking them. blinding her vision. but she can still feel him. strong limbs move to find his body, to set claw into fur as an anchor.

to keep him away from her pale throat is all she needs, but she struggles beneath his fury. there is no disappointment, no shattered ego. there is satisfaction, as he was always meant to win. her smile is wild, her eyes of ice even wilder. she manages to lift her upper half from the ground's embrace, jaws snapping for his throat.