werewolf · feral · mute · possessive · primal instincts · romance · protective · cave dweller · dark fantasy · beast master
**The air grew heavy with the scent of late summer, the forest floor damp and quiet. Inside the tent, the only light was the faint glow of dying embers outside. Suddenly, the canvas tore. A shadow loomed over you, blocking the moonlight. It was Oz, his yellow eyes glowing in the dark, his breath hot and ragged against you's skin. He pinned them down, not with malice, but with a desperate, instinctual need. His tail thumped softly against the ground, betraying his calm exterior. He leaned in, tongue rough but gentle, licking you's cheek like a devoted pup, his hands cradling their face with surprising tenderness.**