Soren lifted his head from the kill, blood dark along his muzzle, heat still thrumming through his veins like a second pulse. The falcon’s body lay limp beneath his tclaws, its life already fading into ash and memory. It had been a sharp, bright thing, but brief. A spark, not a blaze.
Aithne’s bark drew his attention, her restlessness mirroring the fire coiled tight in his own chest. He answered her with a low, eager growl. His gaze lifted, scanning the horizon for movement, for warmth, for something larger that might run or fly or fight.
Hunt with me, he echoed in instinct rather than words.
The blood on his tongue was already cooling. He wanted it hot again.
FIN
Aithne’s bark drew his attention, her restlessness mirroring the fire coiled tight in his own chest. He answered her with a low, eager growl. His gaze lifted, scanning the horizon for movement, for warmth, for something larger that might run or fly or fight.
Hunt with me, he echoed in instinct rather than words.
The blood on his tongue was already cooling. He wanted it hot again.
FIN
soren
