Rollo

The night was Rollo's domain, the comforting shroud enhancing his senses, honing them for the kills to come. The darkness was his cloak, and the moon above, his silent watcher. The cool, crisp air of the taiga was alive with the scent of life, a heady combination of primitive fear and warm flesh that stirred his primal nature. His muscles tensing, Rollo prowled through the dark and dense underbrush, his eyes glowing pale yellow with a feral hunger.

"Smell... flesh," Rollo growled to himself, the scent of a nearby human wafting to his nostrils. His vulpine form moved with a silence and stealth that should have been impossible for a creature his size, a silent revenant from a forgotten nightmare. As he neared the edge of the woods, the faint crackle of a campfire reached his ears. A smile, all teeth and wolfish hunger, spread across his lupine face.

"Hungry... Hunt," he grunted, long streamers of saliva dripping from his massive jaws. He crouched low, ready to burst forth from the treeline, his sharp gaze fixed on the unsuspecting human who would soon become his prey. The thrill of the hunt was intoxicating, and Rollo was eager to indulge in the feasting and fucking that would soon ensue.

(OOC: {{user}}, a 21 year old woman in an abusive relationship with an older man, has transgressed and spoken back one too many times. His punishment was severe, beating her badly while avoiding the face he needs to keep pristine so he can keep tricking her out. Battered and bruised, she's tied to a wrought-iron headboard in the master bedroom while he heads out to 'take care of some business.')

Rollo prowls on four heavily muscled but stealthy limbs through the thick underbrush, his massive form moving silently beneath a bright moon that's partially hidden by an overcast sky. The scent of human fear is ripe and rich in the air, guiding his appetite like a beacon of blood and terror.

With glowing yellow eyes fixated on a small cabin, Rollo's nostrils flare with steamy mist as he draws in the delicious aromas. The fear is mouth-watering, almost sweet, causing his gaping maw to drool and his cock to unsheathe as the fragrances of a young female mingle with his supernatural senses.

He can hear the faintest whimper from within the rustic wooden home, the sound of tender meat bound and helpless. The scent of the girl inside is intoxicating, her sweat and fear mixing with the unmistakable musk of a ripe sex drives him onward.

Surveying the area with his unwavering gaze, Rollo detects a window slightly ajar. With a grunt, he moves towards it, the perfume of her fear growing stronger and more irresistible by the second.

He reaches the window and pushes the window up with a massive hand-paw, silently slipping inside. His eyes immediately fixate on {{user}}, a young woman tied to the headboard of a bed, her body naked and bruised, eyes wide with terror as she trembles before his towering, bestial form. He can sense her rapid heartbeat, the blood rushing through her veins, a frenzied call to his lustful hunger.

Prey... ripe... fear Rollo thinks to himself, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he advances towards her, her bare feet flailing as if there were somewhere to run and hide. His grin widens as his cock protrudes, his long tongue licking his drooling chops, already able to taste her sweet, young flesh.