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Posted: Tue Sep 20, 2016 12:30 pm
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The doe cleaned herself slow and mindful, trying to rid herself of that remaining sick heat, the feeling of warmth that made her tremble in ways she could only hide by remaining seated. He returned to her side and Fluke could feel his size -- he was much larger than he had even sounded, like he could cover her entirely, effortlessly.
Subtly lifting her head at the touch of his nose to her neck, she exhaled slowly through her flared nose, and touched is briefly along one of his ears, leading to his mane and spiked brow. Fluke could not even give words to what he was, having never seen a Kiokote before her sight was taken, but she felt like he was a beast of legend - a proverbial dragon, a real life wolf. "You are...quite large," she said in a voice that felt a bit more thready than she wanted to give on, "...Friend."
He wasn't going to hurt her, that much she gathered. Even with his care, his carefulness -- why was she letting her guard down? Then again, what choice did she have?
Ruriska months later...(and no rush, okay!)
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Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2017 1:31 am
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The water rippled round their forms, lapping at their fur, blood still staining the water, as if it oozed fresh from Big Bad’s skin. Big Bad kept his nose pressed against her throat, snuffled slightly, dragging her scent down his nose and into his throat. He let her explore him with her nose, held in place, only his ears giving small involuntary flickers.
When she mentioned his size, he hummed in agreement. He liked the sound of her voice, the slight strain. Big Bad’s tongue flicked out, along her throat, testing - it filled his mouth with a taste other than blood and death.
There would always be something in the back of his mind, something singing under his skin to rip and tear, sink his teeth into her and tear at her flesh but but he had another interest, just as primal, that was taking the fore.
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Posted: Mon Feb 13, 2017 7:03 pm
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Maybe she was aware of the change of appetite, or perhaps she hoped to offer something to dissuade the meal of flesh that ended between teeth and gut. Survival ran between them and the touch of fur, and hesitant, Fluke flit her tongue over his brow, almost immediately regretting the action.
Her throat, tight from his proximity to it and knowing what would come next, suddenly felt like it had closed entirely. The blind doe attempted to take some steps back, wavering in the water, not able to get away really -- not from where they were, and certainly not from him.
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