Porcupine Ridge [discovery: lotus spring] dirty laundry

He waited, and it pained him to see her scramble in the water, fighting for air, clinging to the surface that slipped away beneath her. Another growl boiled in his chest and threatened to rip from his lips. Why did she play mortal games like this, to fool him? She was mistaken if she thought she could hide her eternity from him; he saw through her. He had seen her, truly, and the amaranthine of her existence. He saw through her illusion, yet she persisted, and she wore such a convincing mirage of panic. He admired her. But no matter how much she pretended, it made his stomach twist, and he wanted no more than to pluck her from the waters-

-and there, she breathed his name, just barely-

-the beast hovered at the edge, gripping the snow and rock. His permission had been granted. She gave unto him the ability to touch, and he would use it well, just this once. Raheerah leaned over and submerged his head in the water, searching with his teeth for the nape of the female. He found her and wrapped his jaws around the back of the neck, so gentle that the creature could not draw blood, but firm enough that he would wrench her out of the water. The touch alone felt dirty and foreign, like every time she drew her nose along his side. It sent spikes through him. He felt frantic to pull her up and release her, to relinquish the touch, for he was unworthy of her.

Raheerah drew her back onto the rocks and stepped away, looking her over with his one molten eye. The cold winter air would soon freeze the moisture on her fur, no matter how warm the sun's rays were this afternoon. He said nothing, despite his concern; if she should feel it necessary, he would obey her, find the monk to warm her, or provide this heat himself. Silence remained fixed on his lips for the moment he held her in his gaze and each breath accompanied a low rumble, awaiting her command.

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