You don't get to pick and choose,

Ugh, she had forgotten how.. Tiresome it was to travel on her own feet, and gather her own things. As a wolf though, she knew the basics, but it was such an annoyance to not only have to move wherever she needed, but to hunt for herself. Messy, blood upon her milky-cream locks, and the factor of diving her face in unsavory guts. She was only a meat person, after all, the guts were not something that the picky miss wanted.

She had washed herself long ago, but by the waters she found in this desert-land, was finally someone she was searching for. 

"Hello there sweetie, you looking for a partner for the night?" A cougar prowling to her victim, she rounded to the man in a safe distance, but made it all the known she was prepared to drift closer if allowed so. This was the moment to test whether this life was truly hell or otherwise.. Everything felt real, but for her sins of lust and otherwise — no hell would grant her it, would they?

Ah.. He looked similar to the man she messed with before she was killed by that bitch.

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leaving the thread with lemon vague for this

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He was still filled with the adrenaline of the game after his roll around with the in heat-bitch that he found within these very same sands (the valley had earned his victory of taking someones sight, peoples lives, their skin -- Bjorn wondered what other parts he might add to his tally here in these new lands. He was off to a great start with something as delicious as a tail) and he knew how it might go.

Bjorn's restless energy could be used in many ways and it seemed that these sands were to be good to him, real fuckin' good that he was certain it was Odin himself pulling these strings. She came to him so willingly, so much so that he thought she knew what she was, a whore in every sense of the word but really, what the fuck did he care? She was pretty enough, delicate enough looking that Bjorn wouldn't need to psyche himself up.

A neck of cream, a face of browns and eyes of crimson -- yeah, the beast could work with that. He looked to her, jutting his chin out as the viking smirked at her, boyish and confident, "could be," he knew enough English that sometimes he didn't need to play on it, even if still did it sound broken and foreign on his tongue. Sweetie, she called him, and Bjorn thought that he might show her that he could be sweet, so long as he could break her in after.

The Viking wanted to test how much she really wanted the game she had started, commanding her, "come," with a rumbled, low tone as he squared his shoulders. He watched her, forested gaze intense. Was she so much of a whore that she wouldn't turn away a chance with a handsome man, willing to touch someone so brazenly open? Bjorn's veins buzzed with excitement. He loved the delicate ones, the sweet ones that he could trick, but he loved the brazen ones in a way that made a fire ignite within his blood. ^^

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