With a grimace founded in fear and desperation, her mind dares fleetingly searching for other options.  The thought of a flash of teeth against tender skin rises tantalizingly, the thought so real in her mind that for a moment, just a moment she can almost feel skin ripping between her teeth.  The gush of blood she knew to follow was so real as to almost warm her lips, her face well beyond the feel of his musked flesh.  Did she dare?  Her pause was pregnant with an almost primal need to feel, to rip.<br/><br/>A glance of her eyes to his brings this barbaristic fantasy to a sudden and frozen halt.  The look in his eyes, his solid bearing quenched all thought of blood lust.  Death awaited there.  Though incapacitated, she knew it was an injury unforgivable.<br/><br/>Drawing back so slightly as to leave her warm breath marking the slickened flesh Fern speaks slowly, her hand neatly squeezing Miaren's arm till the flesh of arm and fingers bore white.<br/><br/>"Suck.  Suck it now.  Like you're hungry."<em>Miaren, I'm so sorry. I don't know what else to do.</em><br/><br/>Her own lips and tongue resume their momentarily halted attentions.  His hand holding, caressing the articulation of her skull to spine intimately dangerous in its path.  At once a most fearfilled touch, yet bringing a lethargic pleasure, distracting and disturbing.