Haunted Wood ⁠—so you can't crawl no more,

Being on top was one of his driving forces. Even in his addled state with his mind fogged with poppies, he felt the power in that moment; the superiority of his weight against her. It was something rooted deep in his psyche, flourishing under these vague conditions as he was stripped of his sense of self; he was a beast, something primordial, and it felt right when he pinned her to the dirt.

And just as swiftly as that feeling flooded him, warmed him where their bodies made contact, it faded with the flick of her tongue. It did not dissipate entirely; Revui was too basic, too animal-minded on a good day, and her submission only made him feel more powerful. He did not relent as she wrapped her forelimbs around him; it felt strange, this proximity and this intimacy, but he felt powerful among a sea of mental fog.

The beast's rumble rose again, this time louder, deeper, his chest vibrating subtly as he bared his fangs. He would not strike her; it was more like a crocodile grin, and here he was basking in her attention. All of this was new, different, but intoxicating.