well, I'm a lion in the haze and the lamb in the lightning
He approaches as a panther but does not stay that way for long.
The shift is fluid, quick, and when he rises as himself, he is no less wild than he had been when he had been in his predator form. He has also been his truest self when remaining true to his feral form. When his mouth was stained red from the hunt, his belly full, his appetites sated. it had been years since Beqanna had stripped him clean of his gifts, and he had never forgiven her for it. Never quite lost his bitterness when he stopped to think about what it had been like to live with blunted teeth and dulled senses.
For that reason, he does not often think about it.
He chooses, instead, to turn his attention to the glory of living.
Untethered, untamed. It’s this way that he arrives near her, his dual-colored eyes flashing with some unspoken humor as he takes her in, illuminated just briefly by the moon. “Hello there,” his whiskey voice is low and warm, roughened just slightly on the edges. His mane lies heavy and matted on both sides of a thick, curved neck, his mouth curled just slightly into a smile, as if whispering a secret.
He pauses far enough away to seem respectable, although he is not, but close enough that it feels intimate. There is a pause as he unabashedly studies her face before slanting his gaze away to the river that roars next to them, the dull sound of it both thrilling and relaxing. “What brings you out tonight?”
oh, these spears and chains of flames around my neck are tightening