cantareIIas
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It prickled along his skin, setting it aflame with sparks of energy, and it perpetually left his hackles raised when he could scent the savage's mere scent. A thrumming, throbbing presence like the headache of whiskey-days and hefty-punches, left bruised inside and out and yet feeling utterly placated. That's what the fight did to you. Burned out all the emotion, the feeling you couldn't grasp at with any turn of tongue. There was only fingers curled into claws, teeth bared and sharp, eyes blazing and snarls a coughing, staggering drumbeat to the hits meant to wound. Meant to pain. Meant to wrought the other with agony. To batter into some semblance of submission- ah, yes, that was one of the good parts. But, regardless of who came out with the least lost, you always came out better.
But the coyote was a constant threat.
Javier was a constant threat.
Bookmarked by cantareIIas
14 Apr 2024