the devil's got stripes

Fool, fool. His quivering lips bring an unsettling smile to his callous features, leaving the eyes dim but curious and the grin soul crushing. He watches with some twisted form of enjoyment as she trips, stumbling over her own limbs like a babe from the womb. This unsteady stride of hers cannot compare to his long gait, extended legs taking forth a mass of muscle and scarring. "See, I've decided something." Stripes match the slower rhythm of palomino cream, steadied gait keeping himself forward of her body as emeralds sweep along curves that would have made this man swoon once before. But not now. Now they crushed his gut and sent boiling hot rage crashing through his veins like magma, bubbling at his joints and bursting from his mouth in the form of insults and incessant growls. 

He is successful, hooves streaking down the two-toned coat and leaving precious pain to brew beneath the skin. A gaudy laugh escapes his maw as she tries to bite him as if one could be so foolish! He feels her dull teeth latch to his chunky shoulder, gripping and giving him the perfect opportunity. He snaps ivory bared canines towards the back of her head, pushing and forcing, trying to pull her down into submission with the help of his raised stance and strength. Nothing, nothing to me.  

The striped titan strikes his forehooves forward, a scream of triumph ready to befall his lips as he kicks out at the aureate knees. He wanted to crush her, to immobilize her and keep her there with no way to run from his grasp. There were no rules now, no boundaries he could not cross. Her screams would bring nothing to bring him back to sanity or morality, no, he would consume her flesh while she squirmed and riled beneath him and he would triumph in her pain. "If I can't have you, no one will—" A mix between a purr and a snarl rise from his throat, rounded ears dropping back as his neck drops and he resumes walking. 

"Is that a dare?" He inquires, smirking as she so foolishly plays the role of the strong damsel, the one who doesn't need saving. But to the gods that damned him, she would be no more when he was done. Her fear flaked from her skin, this stubborn facade proving nothing as he let her scent enter his senses, flooding him with a need for blood. Her lunging at him, an attempt of defiance, it does not scare him. He lowers his head to meet her right breast with his rough horns, to use her momentum against her as she lunges for his body. Ahh ah ah little lamb. 


"growl grumble roar"