His Gluttony leaves no moments for 

Her hesitation...

There will be no time for Her interrogation as 

He feasts...

He is Insatiable, skin and Wild are one in 

their need... 

She imagines Them rutting like the breeders 

She despises...

He objects to Her feelings disparaging 

what They are...

"We Are Mates!" growled out in violent tones.... 

"What are we, Bessa?" He demands!

"Mates." 

She admits slowly

while His manhood shows Her feminine 

no mercy...

He fills Her 

until She is overflowing, 

His seed mixing with the sea Her sex weeps.

Gluttony that can't be sated with food is fed on the kitchen table...

The cocoon of flesh breaks into fur and 

They run...

They run through the storm shattering the forest around Them...

Only taking shelter for Their Wilds 

to find animistic release 

in procreation...

If only They could outrun the shattering Silence 

that will nest between Them 

as Their male nest within Her...