rough touch
MY MUSE BITES YOURS.
THE HUNT. the hunt is what she craved, what she chased. there was no thrill quite like it. like choosing a person, following them — making them her prey. there is the thrill of the uncertainty. had the other taken note of her pursuer yet? or was she oblivious?
steps are quiet, quick — she weaves in & out of shadows, through wherever she deemed appropriate to stay concealed. she’s waiting, waiting for an opening — for a chance to strike. & when that chance is presented, kimiko is quick to steal it away. feet carry her close & they carry her quickly . she doesn’t say a word before grabbing hold of the other, digging sharp nails into her flesh before razor sharp teeth follow.
blood fills her mouth. metallic. hot. familiar.
this was going to be fun.