Bitterroot Valley garmr

ok but. ROMANTIC?

Sharp teeth catch his tail. She pulls, hard, and Miska whirls with a roar to swipe at her cheek. Weirdly, the pain makes him salivate.

He is undeterred by her violence. Delighted by it.

Miska's breath comes in great, thick plumes. She cuts through the fog, saliva glittering on her bared teeth as she spits venom in his face.

She is so close. He can see the evidence of years. Tiny black scars on the bridge of her nose, the indescribable patina of a life lived.

"No honor in soft bitch," he says, quieter, staring into her eyes. "I wait for dream. Make war for dream. Then, when war is won," he leers, "You will to me teach."