When you look into an abyss, the abyss looks into you

The battle is over quickly once the brute decides to join. The satisfying sound of teeth meeting flesh penetrates the red haze of her vision. The rough noise of snapping tendons and sinew dances along her senses and she glories in it. Her tigress releases the headless corpse with little ceremony. Now that the Vampires have been dispatched she no longer feels this pressing need to murder and maim. Her territory defended -- she turns away and glances at the blood matted russet lion. It would seem the viking had enjoyed himself. Immensely.

She watches the brute move -- head clasped within his massive jaws. A trophy perhaps? It would not be the first time Regan had witnessed the act. However, this thought is fleeting and before long his icy orbs slide to connect with her amethyst ones. For a long moment they simply regard one another and perhaps perceptions change. Who is to know.

The press of his mind to hers is startling. A brush of heat and madness before the rough baritone of his voice echoes within the confines of her skull. The onyx tigress flicks her tail in irritation. A command is it? She snarls slightly at him but finds herself padding silently closer. "Don't order me around, viking." Her voice is husky and filled with loveliness. Having lost her ability to speak her mind wove a voice of victory and defiance. One of beauty and contradictions. Put simply, its melodic and rich.

A moment passes where lion and tigress meet before Regan presses her cheek to his and slides her maw along the side of his neck. Rasped tongue sneaks out from between her lips and she begins to wash away the bloody evidence matting his mane.

How domestic of her.


"thinks like this"