Honeyed Pasture one false prayer wielding blasphemy

She volleyed herself at him, every bit as vainglorious as he was. It sent a thrill through him that was a rush like no other he could explain, at least not in a tongue either of them could comprehend. His maw opened, a thin string of saliva spanning the gap between his upper and lower jaws; it was a horrible smile, delighted as his opportunity to grab her scruff revealed itself.

He clamped down with fury, intending to pinch that skin to the point where it would threaten to break if she struggled with him. An ultimatum from an advantageous point; she would either relent or sunder her own flesh from his burning grip. Had she been a coward and had not delighted him, the outcome would have turned far more grim, but he, for all his intimidation and animosity, was not overtly cruel to kith.

Not for an unjust reason or mistake.

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