Maeve
It shouldn't be fun. It really shouldn't. Except she's always been fond of pussy cats. The Nightshade dances away from him on featherlight feet, twisting herself around to keep him in her line of sight, knowing that it would be a mistake to let him out of it. His hiss and rumble roll through her, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, urging her to run.
She ignores this. Instead Maeve jerks the whip away, the Phoenix feather on the end sparking and spitting embers, letting it trail across the sand before him. Maeve can feel her muscles coiling tighter, ready to spring into action at the next pounce, "Is that all you got? Have to be quicker than that, kitten."
She ignores this. Instead Maeve jerks the whip away, the Phoenix feather on the end sparking and spitting embers, letting it trail across the sand before him. Maeve can feel her muscles coiling tighter, ready to spring into action at the next pounce, "Is that all you got? Have to be quicker than that, kitten."
Baby I'm preying on you tonight
and Hunt you down eat you alive
and Hunt you down eat you alive
