Silvertip Mountain Mind of Stone, Heart of Glass

They seemed to be on the same page, even without saying anything. One look from her and a tug, and she could feel him pulling from the other end. The more he pulled, the more she did too, spurred on by her own lust for blood. She enjoyed this game too, and she found satisfaction in the taste of its blood as her teeth sank deeper with the force needed to keep hold and continue to tug. 

The screams didn't deter her or make her loosen her grip, they only encouraged her—confirmed that she what she was doing was right. She heard the rip of flesh, the beast screeching in her ear as it's leg was ripped from its body. She stumbled back a few steps but held on, whipping her head back and forth as the creature still tried to fight. The smell of blood was instantly thicker in the air, and the beast was suddenly sluggish in her hold. She refused to let go though, shaking her head furiously as her jaws ripped deeper into its flesh, blood spilling and dripping down her pale legs. That was when she saw the thing's insides on the ground beneath them. Her gaze lifted for a moment to Donovan, covered in blood and flesh. It was quite a sight, but not one that scared her, strangely enough; it was quite the opposite, but she had no time to entertain the thought right then. He snatched the back end of the creature, the sound of the snapping of its spine filling the air around them. Deciding it was time to end it, she bit down as hard as she could, severing vessels and smashing its windpipe. 

Then she dropped its motionless body, gaze slowly lifting to Donovan. She was panting and blood splattered the white of her legs and chest, mixing with her own in the places it painted her face. She didn't move, she just stared, exhilarated and completely taken with how ruthless he had been and how terrifying he looked. Her heart raced in her chest, and a hard swallow moved down her throat between panting, but still she stared.