I dunno. ( it's not shrooms, at least. not edibles. nothing she's ever had before, but not wholly dissimilar from the feeling of the wild inside them — it's not completely unfamiliar, she just can't think. ) Fuck. The food, maybe.
( food, heaps of it. little wrapped candies, little rich people things. natalie feels sweat bead under her collar, and while she can feel travis is staying put for the moment, it's inevitably her own movement that sets her off — twitching a muscle and finding herself instinctively turning back to face travis, breaching his private bubble regardless of how uncomfortable he is with his own comparative nudity. a hunter never turns their back on their prey, and travis is — was — is.
her hand presses against his chest, feeling the beating of his heart. she's at such a height that she stares at the pulse in his neck, mouth instinctively parting open, mouth watering. ) Trav. ( she would also like to know what the fuck is going on, because she's currently battling the instinct to sink her teeth into his throat and growl like a beast. he smells good, really good, he just also smells like himself and nat — well, nat really wants him to smell like her. to send a message to other hunters. no entry.
she might have taken a bite, if it wasn't for the snapping of a twig some distance away — another hunter encroaching on her territory. she turns, standing in front of travis possessively, hand spooled on his bare hip. keeping him behind her. keeping an eye on him. )
You can't have him. ( hissed out to whoever's there. whether they show interest is not really paramount to the moment — nat never wants anyone to touch travis ever, and wants to make it clear. ) He's not yours.
( not the same as he's mine, but maybe close enough. )
no subject
( food, heaps of it. little wrapped candies, little rich people things. natalie feels sweat bead under her collar, and while she can feel travis is staying put for the moment, it's inevitably her own movement that sets her off — twitching a muscle and finding herself instinctively turning back to face travis, breaching his private bubble regardless of how uncomfortable he is with his own comparative nudity. a hunter never turns their back on their prey, and travis is — was — is.
her hand presses against his chest, feeling the beating of his heart. she's at such a height that she stares at the pulse in his neck, mouth instinctively parting open, mouth watering. ) Trav. ( she would also like to know what the fuck is going on, because she's currently battling the instinct to sink her teeth into his throat and growl like a beast. he smells good, really good, he just also smells like himself and nat — well, nat really wants him to smell like her. to send a message to other hunters. no entry.
she might have taken a bite, if it wasn't for the snapping of a twig some distance away — another hunter encroaching on her territory. she turns, standing in front of travis possessively, hand spooled on his bare hip. keeping him behind her. keeping an eye on him. )
You can't have him. ( hissed out to whoever's there. whether they show interest is not really paramount to the moment — nat never wants anyone to touch travis ever, and wants to make it clear. ) He's not yours.
( not the same as he's mine, but maybe close enough. )