her bulk presses firm against the lioness. her breath rasps through her flared nostrils, thick with musk, dust, and the memory of lost prey. the male stands ahead of them now, broad and scar-wrought; if she were not such a skeptic, perhaps she would have seen the worth in him.
she gives a curl of lips and a gurgling noise of threat that he should stop and not come closer. circling to the other side of asha as she steps forward, lumbering protectress; her own tail curling limp amongst hers.
a possession.
asha's proclamation is a sound nhova drinks in like warm marrow. she does not smile, but she approves. dragging her muscled, coiled side affectionately along hers and purring in claimance. her tongue flicks across her muzzle again, feline in its disdain.
this arrogance has long breath. but breath is not voice.
she steps out now, away from asha's side. mane tousled, ribs broad, scars kissed by heat.
