VESPER
For a while, instinct answers instinct. Vesper gives ground only when the force of Danta’s body demands it, and even then he returns in the next breath with claws raking, jaws snapping, wounded shoulder held close until some opening makes the pain worth ignoring. Blood warms the dark fur along his side and chest; some of it is his, some of it is not, and the distinction matters less with every clash of teeth and molten heat. The tide jaguar’s body knows the language being spoken here too well to refuse it, and while this isn't the same as the last time he and the Maverick had found themselves made briefly wordless by appetite, it's a near enough thing.
Minutes drag themselves out in torn fur, churned earth, and the sharp, wet sound of breath forced through teeth, until the human thread of Vesper’s mind begins to understand what his body will not: The tiger is not yielding. Whatever claim Vesper makes in blood, Danta only answers with more of it, and the hollow they are tearing apart does not become his simply because he insists upon it.
He staggers back a few steps, sides heaving, ears flattened and eyes fixed on the molten cat until his gaze cuts once toward the hollowed trunk nearby. The cache should be there, tucked into a space too narrow for either of them as they are, and the decision arrives with the same clean certainty as a winning hand laid face-up on a table.
Turning, Vesper makes a run for it. The tide jaguar launches toward the black mouth of the trunk, far too broad to fit until the shape of him breaks midair into something smaller, darker, and quicker. A black Maine coon lands inside the hollow in a spill of shadow and fur, tucking himself hard into the cramped dark with his wounded shoulder drawn close, and from within the narrow shelter comes a low, vicious snarl that rises into a hiss, all teeth and warning from a place the tiger cannot easily follow.
Minutes drag themselves out in torn fur, churned earth, and the sharp, wet sound of breath forced through teeth, until the human thread of Vesper’s mind begins to understand what his body will not: The tiger is not yielding. Whatever claim Vesper makes in blood, Danta only answers with more of it, and the hollow they are tearing apart does not become his simply because he insists upon it.
He staggers back a few steps, sides heaving, ears flattened and eyes fixed on the molten cat until his gaze cuts once toward the hollowed trunk nearby. The cache should be there, tucked into a space too narrow for either of them as they are, and the decision arrives with the same clean certainty as a winning hand laid face-up on a table.
Turning, Vesper makes a run for it. The tide jaguar launches toward the black mouth of the trunk, far too broad to fit until the shape of him breaks midair into something smaller, darker, and quicker. A black Maine coon lands inside the hollow in a spill of shadow and fur, tucking himself hard into the cramped dark with his wounded shoulder drawn close, and from within the narrow shelter comes a low, vicious snarl that rises into a hiss, all teeth and warning from a place the tiger cannot easily follow.
rot gut whiskey's gonna ease your mind
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?
but when the hell are you gonna ease mine?
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
