Fenrir teased

He ran a long finger down her face, feeling her shiver. Oh, how he loved to see the fear; the girl's eyes were full of terror and horror, and he thrived on it, lived on it, needed it.

He stepped back for a moment, looking at her long and hard, bound by her ropes. She was struggling against them fitfully, her hands twisting in a feeble and useless attempt to escape.

So weak... he purred, pressing himself against her again, feeling her body tremble. Pathetic...

He knows he is allowing his desire for her flesh to control him- and he lets it, allows it to. What else can he do, when the moon shines so brightly and there is blood to be had?

Teasing is cruel, he knows; it is unnecessary to cause his prey more pain that needed. But it's the fear he sees in their eyes that drives him insane; and it's that very same bloodlust that causes him to lose control.

He teases, and he attacks. A pitiful circle.

He knows he's just as pathetic and weak as she is.