" I don't think your people will accept me, " she muttered, turning gaze away while arms were crossed over her chest. They've... Been meeting up quite frequently as of late, but she'd never follow him as far as the tribe's grounds.
--- Efforts to prove himself as worth her attention had resulted in a multitude of meetings. Each one more elaborate and heated than the last and each one beginning with gifts to show his attentive desire and interest in her- he aimed to impress of course. Like any male in the animal kingdom attempting to court a mate, he brought her bones and scalps and skulls. The braids of his enemies, and the blood soaked furs of their animal companions, slain when confronted by him.
--- She had never dared step into the warlord’s grounds though. Once upon a time the Shrine had been home to his people among rocks and tanned leather tents, their grounds ringed in bone markers to ward away those that might trespass. Nowadays it was a proper and small compound, overseen by his brother and himself, though still home to his immortal Crimson tribe.
--- Blond locks hung loosely down his back, though pinned away from his face with bone ornaments. Clawed digits traced over the curve of her hips in admiration, heart hammering in desire...though she’d yet to allow him to lay with her, it didn’t stop the attraction and arousal he felt. Looking at her, touching her. Lips peeled back in a partial snarl, before nails dragged upwards, holding her elbows and...gently pulling them so that arms were not crossed.
--- ‘ Those brave enough to voice their distaste can challenge me...and die. ‘ he purred, speaking about the death of his “people” so casually that it might imply he didn’t care for them. Untrue of course, but their culture was a violent one and everyone knew their place; if they disagreed with him or his methods? They were welcome to voice their thoughts...and if they wanted to push the issue? They could challenge him. His hair remained unshorn though- a sign that he’d never once been bested in combat.
--- The moment he’d pulled arms from her chest, eyes dropped to it like a hungry animal. Head dropped, dragging nose from her neck and her jaw up and into her hair...she smelled delicious. Like death, and violence. Absently he’d begun to pull her backwards through the gate and towards the compound’s entrance, smirking as his companion- Durga- slunk from the shadows to butt broad head against the femme’s back in encouragement.
