On the willows there, we hung up our lyres

Claudius laughs. “Shouldst use thy claws instead, my love. Stain not thy mouth with his blood.” There’s a viciousness in his smile, but above all it’s fond. He even draws out his notebook, as promised, and begins to make notes. “So thou art feeling both amorous and aggressive. They are so oft the two sides of a coin, dost not thou think? More oft ‘tis thee I wish to bite … but I’d also bite anyone to protect thee, even if I did it with biting words instead of teeth.”