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A bit of powerplay—let me know if you want it changed!
500+
The black auds flickered as she spoke. That language—he had heard it before on his way to Caledonia many years ago, but he had not learned it. And he did not like that sound. It was an ugly sound, light in colour as the clouds are. He loved only his own language, for it moved like the dark rivers of the underworlds. And while the male could not understand the language, he understood the implications of those words. He heard it in her voice and saw it in her eyes. And he was silent, indifferent to her answer, requiring nothing from her and needing nothing from her. His maw, however, was hungry, and they traced a line in the back of her neck as if ascertaining how much force would be required to crush her. And there would not have been a lot of force required for such a thing, and the smallness of this female greatly tempted him to satisfy that sudden need for blood.
In the silence she seemed to be breathing him in, embracing him, and he could not help but notice how easily this creature was swayed in the dark. But he thought of her only as a victim, something easily overcome and something easily thrown aside. As she spoke, speaking now in that language he could speak, the black auds flickered as if chasing away an irritable insect. And here it became quite apparent to the Korean how this female embraced the dark. And now that she did, he wondered which of those two paths should be taken. He could allow her to live so that she may be allowed to live in the darkness, only so that he could return and kill her later, or he could kill her now and get it over with. But he would let her decide. It was always better that way, he thought with that sadistic amusement.
Suddenly, the male’s maw came up, catching the female’s maw with the force and intent of an uppercut, to knock her to the cold, damp earth. And he pinned her upon her back, the secui’s claws resting upon the lupus’ chest as that sneer clawed at his lips. His maw came low, near to her ears as his neck was exposed to her, unafraid and almost challenging her to do what such a thing called her to do. A soft grating insinuated into her ears, falling into them like a poison. “I am transcendent,” the tenor voice sneered, almost purred. He could crush her there beneath his paws, collapse the cave of her chest cavity and silence that language. But he merely pinned her down, the force and strength of his single paw only threatening such a thing. “I am above such conflict.” His maw moved to her face, then to her neck as his teeth hungered for that flesh. The black orbs returned to the lighter eyes. “Have you come to give yourself to one transcended?” The suave tenor died and he laughed again, that cold, mirthless sound.