Plead My Case

Adrenaline surged through his veins leaving nerves numb, oblivious to the reverberations of agony which echoed upon each faltering step yet in these moments the only certainty clung to was a need for escape. Evade the fangs of wretched souls who descended like ravenous beasts to a kill. An ivory snare meant to sunder flesh and force prey to submit, to succumb to the onslaught. Fate he refused to accept, one such as he was not made for slaughter. Not a creature to devour like those who stood beneath. If he ever caught wind of those incompetent hunters again - vengeance would be swift.

However, as it stood, he was in no state to enact revenge.

What he needed now was shelter. A safe place to recuperate for the journey home and a temporary hovel no doubt rested beneath the shadowed canopies’ embrace. The forest’s veil was his best bet, far better than risking pursuit in the open plains. So it is only when the sun no longer warmed his hide and instead lay replaced by the cooling touch of constant overhang did his paces finally slow. Chattering birds, the crunch of fallen leaves underfoot, the crisp fall air accompanied by the all too familiar perfumes of lichen; all promising signs.

Quiet assurances found in the subtle calls of wildlife, their whispers a promise that he’d made it far from the meadows and with it those he’d not soon forget. Their putrid stenches ingrained alongside the rumble housed deep in their breast. He would recognize them - at least that behemoth - yet with immediate danger behind him it allowed a body to calm. That instinctual rush waning, flooding senses anew as that mask was ripped away and everything came crashing down.

Breath hitched in his throat, choking back air for each heave of his chest was akin to fire in his lungs. Weeping punctures flared as if a hot iron seared flesh with refusal to relent. It stirred an involuntary twitch, an unsteadiness that could not be banished even as weight gracelessly settled against sturdy wood. The bark rough as it caught against fur and stopped a frame from collapsing in full. The heavy taste of ichor plagued his tongue though a mind could not register if it was his own or primarily that of another left to stain his fangs. All of it seemed to muddle together as jaws lay agape, bloodied saliva falling freely upon rasping breaths.

Deep down he knew he couldn’t stop here. He needed to get home and have Kaveh assist with this mess before it may worsen. The last thing he needed was for injuries to harbor infection or worse some disease from those whores. All he needed was a chance to collect himself - at least that is what the draconian kept telling himself despite the way limbs shook beneath what little burden lay on them now. Though hardly had he been granted reprieve before the rustling crack of vegetation sparked a new rush of unease.

It brought jaws to snap with a harsh click, a strangled snarl rolling in his chest while fur not slicked in crimson bristling as the judge forced himself upright. Staggering in hopes for balance as weight shifted toward a potential threat. Crown hanging low to mask the vulnerabilities of a weeping throat knowing that sticky warmth would only give way to weakness - as if the heavy perfume of blood did not already proclaim such fates. Even still, divines help whoever approached now. If those hags had chased his path he would use what energy remained to make sure they regretted it.

The chaos of the world could be heard from one side to the other and she had no desire to hop into it for once in her life, feeling it would do nothing to get in the way of soldiers knocking head-to-head. Had it been another protest, she wouldn’t have hesitated to go save the little guys not strong enough to protect themselves but alas this was true war. Politics had never been her cup o tea and she certainly had no strong views on either side to be fighting for who was right to the point of blinding attacking anyone that happened to not share a belief with her. If she fought everyone that didn’t agree with her, she’d have a fucking fight club instead of working on herbal concoctions to satisfy hungry patrons and reap their money as a reward. The teaching part of her job was hardly as lucrative, half the time feeling more like volunteer work but at least she got to pinch cute baby cheeks while she was doing it.

Oh ho!! A blood trail! Seemed some scallywag had tried to flee the scene, possibly on their deathbed. Concern would highlight her features just as strongly as curiosity would but then a whiff would hit her nose that made urgency fuel her muscles as she charged forward like an army truck ready to plow anyone out of her way. Mithras. That was fucking Mithras’ scent emitted by a winter wonderland that had yet to come. She could picture the man equally winter-esque in her mind, just as rudely beautiful. That man better not be dead, or she’d kill him a second time for dying on her.

Whipping past the trees, she would lose the trail visually, the reds all blurring together here as if it had been Autumn year-round. It was peculiar but a place she felt she could hide so easily in despite her stature. She had to rely solely on her scent, which thankfully was one of her keenest of senses and the closer she got, the stronger that perfume became and the quicker her oversized heart bounded in her chest. She didn’t smell any rot or death on the winds, making her relax only slightly. It didn’t mean he’d be alive, but it brought forth a bit more hope that he was still kicking around here somewhere.

He should be easy enough to spot with those cool tones clashing ruthlessly with the warm tones of the environment, even if he was a mini boy. Surely enough she would spot him, though not as easily as she had hoped as crimson had engulfed him.

She didn’t really think to call his name before she quickly moved toward him, often forgetting the squirrely fella was blind, and she unfortunately wouldn’t notice the warning snarl. As he got a pound of her flesh in his mouth against her chest, rather than scream or yelp, she let out a hearty laugh. “Well shiver me timbers, Mithras! You might look on yer deathbed but you sure still got some vigor for a dead man!! Too bad for ya I’m a rather hard to take down tree,” she amused loudly, thankful he was conscious and as feisty as ever. It meant he was fine as far as she was concerned but that bumbling laughter would sober up as she took in the full sight of him.

“How 'bout ya stop bein a nippy little pretty shark man and let me tend those wounds of yours, sugar?” her Irish accent became more weighted and deeper, losing all humor it had a second ago as she booped her snoot between his eyes knowing he'd likely let go of her to yell at her for touching him if he was his normal self.

Bounding paces filled his ears as they ruthlessly tore through the underbrush: sticks snapping beneath foreign weight, foliage crushed underfoot, the frantic call of fowl as they scattered from the path of a beast that would never reach their lofty perch. They held the right idea yet he could hardly sprout wings and fly off with them. He was grounded, earth-bound, and while the scent daring to filter through the woods hardly matched one of the wannabe huntresses Mithras refused to drop his guard.

Even if it were not them there was no telling just who might have seen fit to follow he or any other into the cover of trees. However, now was no time for pondering, it was time to react. Nothing more allowed to process for in an instant that presence was upon him and instinct bid he lash out. Drive fangs as deeply as one could muster into the thick hide before him.

In a rush blood coated his tongue once more and there came a desire to pull harshly, to twist and tear away at this unseen adversary. Though as ivory embedded into flesh it left no room but to breath deep the scent of one all too familiar. An overwhelming perfume of warm spiced notes, an all consuming aroma that slowly brought a sense of calm to return to a frantic mind. Jaws growing lax, nearly thinking to rest against her for a time to steady himself. Just allow building tension to seep away and yet that booming laughter swiftly pushed more tender notions aside and replaced it all with annoyance.

Lips curling as stained maw jerked away, a huffing scoff fleeing his lungs in a far from dignified manner as it tangled upon unsteady breath. That crimson drenched frame attempting to stagger back from her touch with the sharpness of hissed tone, “I am not on my deathbed.” A bold proclamation for feeling as utterly terrible as he did in these moments. Each nerve alight, screaming out to give notice to injury all while a brain fought to drown it all out. “Last I checked, Bellatrix, the dead don’t bite and I am more than c-capable of felling a tree.” Especially one made of flesh and bone.

The serpent clung to her amused tones a moment longer, a limb foolishly thinking to lift and jab in her direction as if to make a point clear. Only for it to hardly leave the floor before quickly settling back to the grounds below in hopes of preventing a rather embarrassing tumble against her when that wintry figure began to falter. Instead ears pinned back as a decorated crown turned away from her. No longer bothering to hide what she no doubt smelled as clearly as he did - all for the sake of showcasing his displeasure. But even this could not silence his tongue for long as sightless gaze soon sought to capture her own. A frown still painted across his lips.

“And what, pray tell, do you think will get properly cleaned and tended to out here of all places? I highly doubt you carried your supplies all this way,” what with her insistence to remain in Perth all this time why would she bother? Though there was one portion of her request that could be honored. He would not ‘nip’ her again now that a mind held ample confirmation of just who she was. Not a threat. Not one of those wretched women. Rather she was an ally of sorts… no matter how so many of her antics may vex him. That sudden press of her nose one such irksome trait of hers.

The way his jaws started to slack was almost concerning. Almost. Not exactly expecting him to cave so quickly even before she had a chance to tease, knowing him to be a man with more sass than all the women in the world combined. Sometimes that meant trying to put a hole in her chest to prove a point but that worry quickly faded when he huffed her right out of his mouth with a puff of a bull about to ram his horns into her, able to see the flare his blue tinted nostrils that was a key sign of annoyance. Something she saw enough to know what was likely coming but an earful, or at least a flapping mouth for her to pretend to hear, not that it wasn’t obvious in the way her ears never followed the sounds like any normal wolf would. In some ways it was a blessing and in others, she sometimes wished she could have more direct understanding.

She could only watch his body language and try to read his lips as he vented out his frustrations, her head tilting so she could get a closer look as if it would help her in maybe hearing him. It would of course be futile, letting out a huff of her own, though far more amused than him. At least out of the words she could pick up, it seemed he was only grumbling about her and not whatever caused this. Not and dead being the most obvious words, noticing his emphasis on them as if he was trying to make sure she caught those part. “Well obviously, sugarbee. You are bitin pretty dang good,” she said with a vibrant smile, her tail giving a gentle sway behind her as if she fully understood him, not really realizing he had already mentioned that.

Gaze would dart downward as he tried to move, watching a ripple of muscle seize his shoulder down into his arm but despite the effort, it didn’t raise much. She let out a contemplative hmmm, observing his every action, ready to catch his stilted frame as it seemed to almost collapse. He managed to catch himself, surprisingly but barely. She went to take a step forward herself when his head turned away from her but soon enough his face would be lining up to try to catch her two toned gaze. A brow would twitch as she managed to make out a few more words this time, even though her gaze kept jumping up toward those ghostly eyes of his.

“Think you forget nature is where herbs are from, noble booty. Scraped up tree bark into dust can be used as a fine clotting agent, add some mint for pain. Slap on some oregano oil and goldenseal on there, got a dandy antibiotic. And what’s a little spit between husband and wife to clean a wound and steady some bleedin?” she rolled her eyes at him. Just because she played in potions that were generally illegal didn’t mean she didn’t know all the proper stuff she buried her paws in at her proper workplace. Those that grabbed the legal stuff, most of them were medicines, healing potions as she likes to call them. Perfect mixes of herbs that could cure the worst that ailed a wolf. Still, she decided to toy with him at least a little bit.

“But if it’s not good enough for ya, off we go to get the good, good stuff,” she started before abruptly shifting her weight and dunking her head and neck under his belly and lifting up, so he slid down onto her back, making him her luggage. Though it wouldn’t be Perth she was headed toward but rather toward a place she kept stock in the Mainlands near his very own home. Couldn’t be unprepared if business could always be right around the corner.

Tongue clicked sharply as another variation of pet name dripped from her tongue, his ears pinning back in further displays of annoyance as a crown turned away. It was always a touch aggravating with how easily the towering woman brushed aside much of what he said. How she did not seem to full grasp what laced the air in velvety tone and yet it wasn’t like he could see any of her own silent cues. Could not grasp all one offered lest it came from the very touch he abhorred, lay scented by the breeze, or graced his ears in woven lyrics. At least she tended to hold understanding within that stubborn skull of hers and provide enough in turn for conversation. Thought which slowly brought the sourness of his expression to fade yet it would not silence breath from morphing into a harsh scoff.

Of course he was still biting well. Fantastically even no matter the ways it sent a pang through his jaw. In time such feeling would fade along with the chorus which sang upon every fiber of his being but no matter how it hurt he would not regret retaliation, how readily fangs sank into flesh. It was defensive, self-preservation, and he would continue seeing it that way no matter the wolf perched before him now. Not that she seemed to care in the slightest for a brightness still clung to her voice. A tone which grew so grating at times, however, in these moments he could hardly find complaint in the loudness which rang in his ears. For out of any who could have approached she was a preferred presence, others would no doubt have sought to embed fangs once more and make up for their short comings in battle.

He couldn’t let her know that though as a limb haphazardly shifted in failed gesture before that ghastly stare sought her out. Hovering upon her every word to maintain a semblance of eye contact even after exasperation hinted upon her own retort. Phrases which brought his lip to curl as venom laced his tongue, “I did not forget herbal origins but need I remind you this noble booty is what granted you your status here.” Helped to keep the legality of her work under wraps even if only to preserve his own name… even still, she would do good to remember that lest she wished for it all to be stripped away. Return solely to the structure which housed her back in Perth.

That home of hers never quite living up to the serpent’s expectations with its creaking framework and the crumbling stones underfoot. Much of the pillowry hardly soft enough for his liking, nearly akin to sleeping on a boulder rather than the embrace of feather stuffed fabrics or silken furs. Just thinking of it in passing brought another huff to snort free though he clung to a particular phrase, “Divines help you Bellatrix if you so much as even think of spitting on me.” It was hardly the most sanitary option in his eyes though before he could protest further of her proposed cleaning methods a temporary pressure brushed to his throat and brought him to an immediate halt.

Jaws agape as if caught upon their next phrase, eyes staring unblinking, a figure frozen as that agonizing touch sent a pulse against each howling nerve. Breath stuttering as all too easily a frame was tossed back, slid over the wetness of her nose and into the plush cushioning of fat and fur. Only when he seemed to still atop her did air flee his lungs. Contact a constant as he felt the way ever muscle shifted beneath her skin as limbs grasped for purchase upon an ever shifting surface. It was all rather undignifying but at least no other was here to behold such things especially when Mithras held certainty that her features now lay smeared in crimson, a stained trail to paint a path over her hide.

And while a part of him loathed being carried like this it wasn’t fought. A fate accepted with another sigh as weight gingerly settled against her, taking in how the warmth of her coat seeped through the chill threatening to overtake his own flesh. Nothing more than a grumbled askance rolling over her back, “Just where do you think we’re going like this?” He wanted confirmation over the paths she planned to take, what more public locations she may traverse in her efforts for the good stuff as one proclaimed. There was still ample time for an answer for scents of these autumnal woods still enveloped them though whenever a voice did not rise and steps kept trudging onward his paw halfheartedly slapped to her side, “Bellatrix!” ‘Answer me.’

She watched him like a predator, trying her best to read every action he made, though there was a lot she would miss as many actions were sounds alone. The subtle wrinkle of a snout dictated the scoff somewhat, but she couldn’t fully be sure what it was all about besides likely annoyance as her own muzzle wrinkled in mimicry, as if it would help her understand him better. It didn’t of course, but it was the thought that truly counted as her tail gave a few gentle sways. What she could make out was that he was rippling with emotions, everything from relief to anger, that however wasn’t nothing new for him. He wasn’t broken in personality at least; she could give him that and that alone brought a different sense of comfort to her as a smile clung to her lips after getting done mocking him. She was thankful the pretty boy was as spunky as ever, even if she preferred he be a gentle critter like his appearance made him out to be. He would be far more tolerable then.

That smile would pull into a smirk when his eyes continued to follow her to the best of their ability, always impressed by how accurate he could be even if that stare lacked a soul. Even meeting her eyes, it was like he wasn’t looking at her at all, that lack of connection she had with most when eyes met. His visage never followed her own and, in a way, it made her a little sad at how unseen she felt in even the philosophical sense. She tenses just a touch when his lip curled, not sure what brought that on. Not that she ever seemed to know why he was so easily triggered at all times, it made him exceptionally hard to communicate with and yet here she was, trying her best to be a good confidant whether he saw it that way or not.

Those pretty lips cleared some of it up for her, a chuckle knocking at her breast when he returned the noble booty comment, having to hold back going into hearty laughter as much as she wanted to. “Potato, pistachio. Even if I did, you’ll always remind me. None you can do about our vows now unless ya plan to kill me. Mithras Mirzaei is the law, the codex of justice in this land and as that codex, you know we are bound forever and always, unless we both wish to fall from grace,” she hummed, not at all trying to be taunting and just pointing out the facts before them. She knew she often came off as dumb and naive, but she knew well enough the position they were in, the paperwork which made them each other even if only on legal terms. Love didn’t decorate their hearts, they didn’t beat for one another and even she knew that as much, as at times she wished he’d bend so she could steal a sweet kiss or a pining caress.

She had long accepted this marriage would never be sealed with passion. He was only a jewel to look at.

As if reading her thoughts, she noticed how detest rattled his expression when she mentioned cleaning his wounds the easiest way possible. Still, she couldn’t help but toy with him for a brief moment as she allowed her muzzle to get close to his, trailing a breath along his lips to make him anticipate her possibly going in for a kiss but such a thing would never come. Temptation to pop that bubble would be pushed aside out of solely consideration for him and so she could scoop him up a moment later.

Each little flex of his muscles could be felt along her frame as he slid into place, surprised to see he didn’t fight her much at all, having expected a few more chomps. Maybe he was broken. She didn’t wait to really find out as she started to move, feeling his ribs flex against her spine in rhythm that was far from just breathing. Her head would glance back toward him, but he had stopped speaking by then, making her mentally shrug it off as him probably just complaining more. If it was important, he’d probably tug her ear off, and she didn’t feel those teeth there. So, she’d continue on. Prancing merrily but carefully past the roots and brush, using her own size to her advantage. It wasn’t until his paws started to knock into her that she would come to a stop, turning her head toward him again.

She stared and blinked at him blankly before squinting and letting out a scoff. “Boy, I can’t hear ya if I can’t see ya mouth. Forget I’m deaf or somethin? Or did I never tell you? Hmmmm, probably not. Well now you know if you didn’t before! Been in a soundproof hell since I was a wee yearlin, though I do wonder if that voice of yours is as delicate as your winsome features,” she laughed, though there was a hidden pain there, one she wasn’t about to dive into or acknowledge right now. “So while I’m lookin at cha, be a doll and tell me what ails you. Be swift now, the streets will be cracklin soon enough if we wanna get you home before the rest come,” she tilted her head, watching him curiously but still awaited merely further complaints.

Eyes could not help but roll at the mocking laughter which threatened to burst from her chest. Its bubbling start a steady rumble that quickly faded beneath a sputtering of title and the laws he knew all too well. Recitation which painted a sneer against delicate features though he finds fixation upon her turn of phrase. Interjection offered first and foremost, “It’s potato, potahto, not pistachio.” It sounded absolutely ridiculous not that this woman would care. However, that was hardly a matter of importance and one he did not intend to cling to for long as he looked carefully to her then.

A visage forcefully softening, the bitterness so often crinkling his muzzle fading in hopes to prove the sincerity behind rising lyrics. “I would never kill you Bellatrix,” while the consideration may have once darkened his mind at the start of all this it came with far too great a cost. Even if it were not an act carried out by his own paw it could still be traced back to him. He would be found guilty of the deed in the court of law, a conviction certain, and more than his position within the courts would be lost. It wouldn’t be worth it.

“I have not forgotten all that binds us,” not love but the very laws he upheld, “Nor the risks that come with it.” As it was all too easy to notice how she so often hoped for more. From the ways she was felt to linger, how the rabbit beat of her heart hammered in his ears whenever she grew flustered over simple act or phrase. Longing notions the draconic could not return from beneath the shell kept around his heart. For what good would that manner of attachment bring? Nothing. Nothing but trouble or heartache. The need for walls to be built anew. It was easier to keep them from crumbling in the first place.

Though as it haunts and dwells upon the mind - as he protests the suggestion of actually licking his wounds - that presence only draws ever nearer. Hot breath brushing to skin as she hovers at a rather inappropriate distance for one not kept within the privacy of a home. Not that allowance would be granted there but out here? Where any soul could stumble along and see all which transpired? Never. it was improper. Indecent. And yet so easily could one lure her in. Feign opportunity with the subtle tilt of his crown in falsified desire only for jaws to snare her muzzle before contact could be made.

However, it was she who acted first and in one swift motion he was upon her back. Positioning he wanted nothing more than to fight against yet all a body could do was give in as muscles relaxed against her own. Already energy ran low and while he would never admit it aloud, in these moments even keeping up his usual patterns was draining. Each disapproving click of the tongue or huff from his lungs felt to be an exhausting endeavor when that ever leaking sanguine painted his flesh with an unmistakable elixir.

Oh how he detested this feeling of weakness, of the sensation of blood staining the very image he tried so hard to maintain. One to be kept perfect. It was hardly such now though for no doubt fur clumped in ugly wet mats and lounging upon Bellatrix like some useless pup was hardly any more flattering than the mark of fangs which marred. But grumble and gripe as he may, it is not until a scoff of her own rattles his frame that a head swiftly turns to better face her. The loudness of her vocals triggering a light snarl to rumble in his chest as it reverberated in his ears. Only to be snuffed out as quickly as it had risen.

Deaf? Well that would explain a lot though it did not stop an irritated huff of his own from puffing free nor silence what dripped from his tongue, “Then we have both lost something, hm? My dulcet tones will never grace you and your striking features will never be mine to behold.” At least Mithras hoped she were as lovely as he knew himself to be. A captivating visage, an enrapturing figure to gaze upon and not some loathsome hag.

But he says no more on the matter, the weight of understanding nearly bidding him to turn from her entirely. Steal away the utterance lingering upon his tongue and yet eyes remained glued as shallow breath fled his lips. One far gentler than any before. Askance falling upon hushed phrase, more so a request rather than demands, “Just get me home. If the streets grow busy there’s a back way in.” The rest, he supposed, could wait.

She would only stare silently at him as he tried to correct her, but it was really no use, as her head would tilt, feeling like he simply repeated exactly what she already had said. She couldn’t really tell the difference and she didn’t feel like fighting over it, just leaving it to her maybe sounding different than how she thought she did, rather than her having said the completely wrong word. Either way, she wanted to laugh at that disapproving teacher like glint in his eye, making her feel like she was just an apprentice again though it also made her think of a few others that were less charming. A sigh escaped her at that, nose twitching slightly at the thought of her departed mother. She didn’t want to associate the two as anything similar.

The sudden shift in his demeanor after her defense to his retort would make her curious, even her ears foreign the sense of being able to hear but only the vibration of his voice tickled the delicate hairs. “You seem mighty certain for someone that seem perpetually annoyed with moi” she gently teased with a smile, finding it very much possible, though she didn’t see any benefit he could obtain in killing her. It wasn’t like he was running off to sleep with everyone under the sun for them to be wed to become a problem on his image, as far as she knew at least. The amount of time and distance she had kept between them since their bindings, she didn’t know at all what he was doing from day to day except when their paths crossed at the college for work. With the waging war, even that had been stagnant, the soldiers had taken it over entirely the past few weeks. He also had everything in the world, she was merely a Chieftain’s daughter, which meant so little in the Mainlands. It was nothing like being a noble like she was now by being bound to Mithras.

Drawing in a breath, she never wanted the renown, only the profits that came with it. The parties didn’t hurt either where she could be drunk and merry to the fullest but there would always be hawk eyes that held disdain for her lineage. A marriage alone couldn’t fully take away everything one tried to hide unless they changed everything about themselves completely. As greedy as she was, she still held pride in her culture, the community she grew up in. Nobles were far less friendly.

All those thoughts would dissipate when he started to pine for her attention, drawing her full focus upon him and divulging her secrets that weren’t much of one. The moment he opened his mouth, though, all ability to hold a boisterous confidence would fall flat on its face. Heat would flare along her cheeks, her fur fluffing up at what she perceived as flirting. She tried to fumble for word, eyes dancing along his hauntingly beautiful features. Her lips pressed firmly together, her tail giving a few gentle thrashes as she tried to regain herself. He wouldn’t be flirting with her. She knew better but her heart sure didn’t as it fluttered wildly. “A beast of poetry, are ya? It will be cruel if you make me fall for you if you don’t do the same. So do, please, can that pretty little mouth of yours unless…” she stated with a flustered huff, trying to smack the feeling away and the anxiety that came with it.

She couldn’t even finish her sentence it would seem, because she didn’t want him to stop but she didn’t desire to have a broken heart in the future either. Once he gave his order to go home, she would take advantage of not looking at him any further, traversing the land in rushed but careful steps with an urgency to tend to him sooner rather than later.

-exit bell with mith in tow, headed to their his home-

There was no denying the phrases which fell upon him in turn. Nearly everything portrayed within her company spoke only of distaste toward each act with the click of a tongue, the harshened scoffs which fled his lungs upon huffing breath. Ears turning back and a snout away to ensure a point was made clear far too many times yet no matter the shows put on she rarely chose to retreat from him whenever their paths crossed. Whether such encounters lay within the college itself or the very lands dwelt in during infrequent visits, his presence was never denied.

Even as he looked to her now with the falsity of a softened visage, implored her to believe him upon soothing tones - she merely teased of his annoyances with her. An ever present threat that lurked beneath the surface, threatening to break a façade so carefully held. Reel it back. Though even if it seeped through, while expression may hold little truths his word did. He had nothing to gain from her demise. Nothing good would come from death but whether she chose to believe that or not was her own issues to tangle with.

However, protest as she may when it came time for honeyed tone to slip from a serpent’s tongue, hiss between fangs, she seemed to falter. Warmth flooding the very coat he laid upon as it fluffed up around him. Nearly bidding a crown to rise to escape the tickling hairs but instead he remains nested in its embrace taking in the ways heat thrummed against skin and the wild beat of her heart as it hammered within her ribs. Merely hearing it brought a light smile to grace his lips, nothing like the taunting sneers so often greeting her. This was something new and Mithras would make no promises of silence.

Delicate lyrics could always grace her in hopes of getting his way - knowing the ways it brought her to squirm and fluster even now. No matter how she knew of the disinterest he held toward anything more than this. It would be cruel. Unfair. This he knew especially when listening to the ways her lyrics fell short and a huff plagued in her indecision filled the air. She enjoyed hearing such things, that much was plain to any who beheld her yet he would heed her request. At least for now.

Slowly breath of his own would fall as a muzzle drug over her skin, turning from her fully as a path was set toward what he hoped was home. Her words haunting as they weighed upon his mind. If she said. Cruel only if she were to fall without the promise of it being returned yet from the ways she blushed, how the heat rose to tint her skin from simple act or phrase it only brought one possibility to mind.

“I fear you already have,” or she was dangerously close to doing so when it all lay paired with her frequent - unprompted - affirmations of beauty. Yet his words are quiet. Not meant for any but himself as they slip upon a fleeting whisper, leaving hardly a rattle in his chest as air fell upon a sigh. He would not call attention toward personal observations as instead one fought the urge to allow eyes to drift closed until another jostled him back into the waking realm.

-exit mith on his faithful steed bell-