Gale
this is going to break me clean in two --
this is going to bring me close to you
The fire he gives her sinks into her flames like rain into the ocean, a small bit of light that is subsumed by an inferno. Could he find it again, he wonders? Could he pull it out from the rest of her? An experiment for later, he thinks; one he has no interest in now.
There are better things, like the way she buries her bloody face into the thick fur of his neck, and the way she’d licked the blood from his jaw. The frenzy of the hunt and desire to feed are slow to dissipate, and Gale is often content to longue about for hours afterward, dozing dreaming.
He’s never shared a meal - a kill - with Mazikeen like this before though, and he finds that despite the pleasant weight of a meal in his belly Gale is not feeling sluggish at all.
If anything he grows more alert, but perhaps that is the way she speaks of his taste, or the chill in her voice when she asks what she’d tasted like from where her mouth settles so near to his throat.
“Intoxicating,” he replies, because he knows she must be Poison, and yet the Danger feels an acceptable trade. Everything is acceptable in trade for these moments with her.
“We’ll have to hold off on the practicing,” Gale continues, licking the stallion’s blood from his lips so it will not sully the taste of her own. “I intend to do things to you tonight that would make our disguises unbelievable.”
He murmurs a few of these things into her ear, grinning wickedly, and then pulls his head back to watch her crimson orange eyes, curious if he might light them again, wondering what might do it.
“Perhaps you could still be Wishbone though,” he suggests.
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Gale
