Maea
And I only needed one more touch
Another taste of devouring rush
Another taste of devouring rush
At first it seemed as though the message was getting through. The low posture, belly to the ground and merely protecting the back was a sign of submission, of non-threat deescalation. But that flicking tail betrayed her, and the pinned ears was a red flag if Maea had ever seen one. How she knew she couldn't be sure, but she knew all the same, just like she instinctively sensed the moment where some decision was made to remain and fight rather than give up and run. Back, back, the red tiger moved, only to surge forth to meet Maea's own taunt.
They both gave as good as they got. Mere moments after her paw connected with the red one's nose a heavy blow to her own snout rattled her vision. A sinking sensation in the gut preceded a white hot surge of pain. Something hot and salty trickled over the sensitive nose-pad, dribbling and dripping from pale whiskers, drawing a rumbling growl that pitched higher than before.
When her other paw came up to aim another slash towards the opposing tigress's head it had a weight of finality over it. Either they would have enough, or Maea would. She was not enjoying this. Beating on a random creature was utterly pointless without any bloodlust to drive her on, and she was not in a mood to enjoy a contest of skill or strength. If the other did not withdraw she would disengage herself and bound off in several long leaps, eager to put distance between them.
They both gave as good as they got. Mere moments after her paw connected with the red one's nose a heavy blow to her own snout rattled her vision. A sinking sensation in the gut preceded a white hot surge of pain. Something hot and salty trickled over the sensitive nose-pad, dribbling and dripping from pale whiskers, drawing a rumbling growl that pitched higher than before.
When her other paw came up to aim another slash towards the opposing tigress's head it had a weight of finality over it. Either they would have enough, or Maea would. She was not enjoying this. Beating on a random creature was utterly pointless without any bloodlust to drive her on, and she was not in a mood to enjoy a contest of skill or strength. If the other did not withdraw she would disengage herself and bound off in several long leaps, eager to put distance between them.
But the room was so quiet
Whose side am I on?
Whose side am I on?
