Redhawk Caldera I'll cut your little heart out 'cause you made me cry

he reacted as best as she could have hoped; there was no aggression, no sudden turn to fangs and claws. she was aware, however, of how near the threat of such things lurked. he fed off her submission, grew near, and she remained still and meek and pliable. but then he inched closer still and she rolled into full submission, belly-up, limbs held close like an arachnid in death, tail curled betwixt her haunches. 

"nothing. I am only hungry." she whispers, gaze fixed to his chest. perhaps he will simply let her move on, and once again will she become dust in the wind.