Practice makes perfect, that is what she tells herself time and time again. Each encounter with a stranger is just another step closer to understanding the endless depths of intricacies one can possess. The most unique individuals are the ones she learns the most from, though every psyche has its lessons.
Today is a lesson of a different kind - an indulgence, if you will.
Ashhal is dangerously close, brutish features closing in with each passing second. Jude senses that most find him intimidating, and those of weaker (or perhaps, clearer) mindsets might shy away. She is not easily intimidated, be that foolishness or bravery - she is still too youthful to tell. His aged muscles and furious attitude are wildly intoxicating, something she has yet to fully experience. When he presses closer, she roots herself deeper into the ground, defiant and all too knowing of what she wants (what she knows she must succumb to).
His breathe is hot on her skin - she likes the feeling, relishes it, but allows no physical reaction. He knows what he is doing - knows too well - and she will not offer him more satisfaction than she thinks he deserves. His words, breathy and tantalizing, tickle the delicate skin of her ears. Jude does not flinch, not once, not even when his jaw closes like a snapping turtle’s terribly close to her flesh.
(She almost wishes his teeth did snap against her ear, drawing blood, perhaps even ripping the tip from its place - anything to allow her to release her control.)
Jude reacts immediately, lifting and tilting her head back to the underside of his neck to bite, closing her jaw to pinch. She then quickly backtracks two steps, just enough to lift her head and stare audaciously into his eyes:
“You don’t talk a big talk but your attitude does,” she says, spitting back a taunt. “Do you bite as hard as you bark?”
Jude swishes her tail irritably, awaiting whatever wrath Ashhal dares to cast.
@[Ashhal]