Dawnlark Plains caught in your riptide

there are no quick words, no excuses, only an utterly besotted look as emýr enters the fold. he came. he said he wouldn't, but he came running. following devotedly after. and for a moment there is no woman above him, no conflict, only him. them.

and then her paw presses upon his throat, and he is reminded with a soft choking sound. right. her.

"not my fault you were too slow to act. he scoffs, even as his vision dims a little at the edges. he is a stubborn bastard always, even at the mercy of another. confident, still, that emýr will come to save him. he will not fight this woman, but he will make her see reason. talk her down. his paws pry uselessly at her chest, her paws, her forelimbs. she is immovable.