The Sunspire Death Is A War[M] Blanket

His play of words don’t anger Donovan any longer. No, now has his sights set on the feisty male and damn, does he want to feel the wrath. Donovan only shakes his head at his first two replies. Then as the other flips back down, Donovan follows like a moth to a flame, surely to get burned. Speaking of, he’s trying to get burned.

He pads over and slinks beneath the overhang as well. Flopping down on his side next to the other. Propping himself up on an elbow, Donovan leans forward, sticking his face in the danger zone once more. “But why’s that? Making up an excuse to bite me?” If allowed, he’ll even nudge his massive head next to the others, shoveling at his face with a wet, leathery nose. “Maybe I like it when you bite.” He hums in a enticingly.