Becoming Prey

"I didn't answer because YOU DIDN'T GET THE FUCKING REFERENCE!" he snapped, growing tired of these pointless games. She thought she was all that when she has hot garbage, and he was losing his cool. The orange markings around his ankles flared brilliantly, showcasing his displeasure of their conversation. She was fearless, walking like she really could take it all on. That attitude would be her suicide. What didn't help was how she sauntered so confidently, swaying those sweetly thick hips and hitting him in the face with her mane. Was she flirting or trying to start shit, because Ricochet could throw down in both ways. Blowing air to get her hair away from his face he snorted, staring down her form and trying to ignore the mild arousal. She was annoying and stupid and would die after three days of living in this death trap, but damn did that ass make him feel something. "You tryna fight or fuck bitch because I do well at both," he responded at last, taking the time to walk up to her side and arch his neck. Instinctively his chest puffed up, chin resting closer to his neck as his tail rose proudly in an effort to impress and intimidate. It didn't matter that she was taller than him, or that her ass would be a challenge to take on by itself; he was ready to have a go at it one way or another. And if she wanted a fight... well, he didn't mind playing with fire in the bedroom. DON'T LET THE BASTARDS GRIND YOU DOWN

@Ahlora