She feels like a mouse at the mercy of a cat. Her heart beat quickens as he rounds to her front, stopping to stare at her head on. Suddenly she feels exposed, and naked. Nothing but the sound of wind whispering through the trees and the light hum of chatter somewhere beyond sight.
“I do not,” she retorts, her ears flattening instinctively against her skull, lifting her head into a more prideful pose, despite the vibration she feels in her throat. Two seconds and she could lift into the air like a bird taking flight; her wings slightly extending from her body with the thought.
But something is intriguing about her.
Brine can feel his eyes trace over her, but not because her curves have filled into a woman’s physique. She is meat on a stick for him, a steak seasoned just right. And yet Brine does not flee or fly, she stands there like a deer in headlights; frozen, but not blank. No, she stays because she thinks he may be more than a hellhound chasing blood.
“Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?” Her voice is soft, a whisper almost, but yet with a certain amount of strength lingering in the air as she challenges him back. If he wished to rip her limb from limb he would, no amount of sweet talking and tail flicking would change that fact. Brine would not go out a coward.
Not like everyone before her.
“If I was worried about danger, I wouldn’t be here would I?” She reaches back to adjust an itch that arose on her shoulder, maybe nerves tingling at the tips of her hair.
“There are no monsters worse than the ones in my head.”
Brine
find yourself, then come find me