He stalked her, as if the dark form as that of tranquil prey. Closer, he could taste the Pansy on her. Yes, the male he had beaten. It rose in the boy, the arrogance and the amusement. Was this the one? The one that held the dogs’ leashes. His heart jumped as he thought about the way he had broken that white male. The larger chocolate beast had not gone down as easily as the first one he had fought. Heath had run, though that defeat was only because of their size difference. But the pups’ mistress was right before him, and Heath was very interested in meeting her.
She turned to face him, the look on her face no doubt the whip she used on her charges. The poor, poor, beasts. Living with such a scowl. He wondered if she ever loosened up, and he thought of more then just their collars. She spoke as if she had poison on her tongue, and Heath stopped to watch her. What her intentions were, slowly came to light. Mistress Dreamer, have we met? The boy snidely spoke. Did she know of him?
There was shifting in her form, growing and morphing. Heath knew this dance and knew it well. His mouth cracked open in a half grin, and he let the change over come him as well. He smelled the rage in the air. It traveled to his mouth and he salivated at the taste.