Duck Lake dirty little secret

She does not understand the word in which he calls her, his tongue rolling and turning with a vocabulary foreign to her. The exotic growl of word perks her interest, as so noticed by the perking of her ears and she watches with utmost glee and seduction as he lifts his paw to her will and that 'yes' rings in her ear like an echo. 

With a smile, the innocence of it pulling away like a veil to leave a more sinister, hungry expression, she dies her muzzle down to lick at his wet paw. For a moment it were as though she meant to groom the hairs after having had his bath. However, a sharp and quick bite and short jerk at just above his ankle would tell otherwise. If he did not dismiss her, she would groom again, tasting, eye lids fluttering closed as she did so and she would pause, as though reading him somehow by the taste of his blood.