after a long fight, he straddles you into the woodland floor. his muscles and veins pronounced along his forearm, his pants sit dangerously low on his hips, his hip bones outlined in the dim light

you keep fighting against his hold, your weapon long thrown over, your face wet and covered in mud, your tank top torn up. eventually you give up to his hold and catch your breath

“giving up so easily?” he taunts with a big toothy smile on his face, boldly showing off his sharp canines.