ardent

tears of god



Lisbeth


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N/A
player
07-19-2016, 10:20 AM
#1

she is of quiet step; where the chilly morning hair rises humid fixture and fox from the warming springs. a place to bathe in the morning chill; a time to show and settle within murky warm hums the nudity that crosses under brunette gowns and trestles that sing as she moves in her soft gate. one of little rush; of eyes that still squint to the glaring morning sun; that still blink with a wetness to the corner of her eye from the yawns that engulfed the waking woman's cranium. her gown could drop as her toes peaked over the edge; sea blue eyes drifting the rims as if looking for a smoother way to arrive within the warm waters. to wade until the warmth reached her hips and cleansed the saturation from her slick thighs; a woman of sexual deviation come this year and within the charm of the birds had it came so very eagerly to the current of womanhood and even so did her eyes flaunt and lips pucker as she found herself crouching. one fore-leg slowly dipping in the water, toes extended and tail stuck out as her rump rose in the air as the depth and temperature of the aqua was tested before she slowly slipped within the witches warm stew.

the babe slowly lowered her body within the warmth; a bubbling brew that kept her bode in a temperature that brought her skin to a pleasing touch of the sun and her touch. there is a soft noise that leaves her throat, a purr like hum that comes in her pleasure of the touch. it is a grip; a hug that is so very similar to the touch of another and ni her time does she find this of pleasure; of need and touch does she reside there as her body hides beyond the water surface. an alligator to the view; her cranium touched to the surface while her legs gently touch among the sandy floor.




Starling

Loner

age
5 Years
gender
Male
gems
6
size
Large
build
Light
posts
346
player
keanai
07-19-2016, 06:42 PM


He was on his way home. after all this time, he finally realized who was in the wrong. Not his family - not his friends.. not the spirits of nature, and the other wolves of the world. Him. He was the one who had been in the wrong, an he finally admitted that to himself. He knew that while he always blamed himself, always put himself down... some part of him felt it was their fault. Now, he knew better. He was a stronger wolf for it, he hoped, and he would try his best not to fall into that trap of despair and depression again. It just... wasn't worth it.

Truthfully, he came here because he wanted to relax. The Hot Springs sounded like a fabulous idea; the warmth and the soothing motion of the water would undoubtedly calm him down, and prepare him for what was to come. He had faith in himself (sort of) and he would try to be the best he could for it.

His paws fell softly on the ground as fog wreathed around his figure. It was almost eerie, but it was pleasant. Even the temperature was pleasant; he hardly noticed the cold, now that he had spent time in the North in winter. He never thought he'd get used to the cold, but... he never thought he'd be away from home in the North. Again, anyways... a pang of sadness hit him as he remembered Arian. He remembered her teaching fondly, and that smile was bittersweet as he recalled the birth of her children. How were those pups faring now? He would need to investigate a bit to find out.

He paused by a pool, breathing in the steam that wreathed around his body. It smelled so warm. He shrugged off his herb pack that was starting to fill up near the 'shore' and he happily stepped in, tail wagging behind him and splashing as he suddenly realized he was not alone. "Oh!" He scrambled backwards out of the pool, horror in his gaze as he gazed at the brown female. "I-I'm so s-sorry!" He didn't mean to disrupt her peace at all! "I-I can l-leave if y-you want?" he suggested, his ears flat in mortification.

""




Lisbeth


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N/A
player
07-19-2016, 07:06 PM
#3

A unsworn body; free to the display of her actions and the gentle waves that move with her movement. It is as if she; the moon is working the waves in its ocean beauty. Bringing the soft hush of sea spray and the reef who becomes alive with her movement. (the moon; eternal and her youth. The sun; dying with its flame) an exhale leaves her body, sea blue eyes drifting from the rim of the bubbling pool as its mist drifts within the early morning chill. It is now does she softly began to awake;truly now does her mind take in the wild-life that dances around her; or so that is absence in the fumes that work from these pools. Through the dense trees that curl among the crescent shape pools does she observe; watching through in the soft tip as she relishes in the closeness that she strangles to her the warmth bathes her dirt nudity.

it is in oblivious interaction; does the man sway into sight and the brunette woman found herself sinking a inch or two. letting the water creep up among her cheek and gently swishing among her dark nostril. sea ovals searching; a creature of fiction as her ears rose in a place of possessive creatures. within her pool; the brunette woman did not lay claim to the slick creation of the world but in this hesitant moment the warm pool could be found as hers and her body language played to her mind. though in distraction did the thump of a small pouch catch her eye, a small perk in the brow as she observed the mans creation and in time would remember of such a thing had she ever need it. "had you realize this something other then water, if it was?" her lips pondered, slowly did her legs extend and no longer did the brunettes body float and hide within the milk-warm pool to pretend her nudity was not. she is if slick creatures, the outline of her muscle and body even in its wide stature touched as she left the water. deciding not to share; in that moment but did her body ever display a touch of dominant play. for the soft wrinkle of her lip as her words ended or for the nose that drifted toward the soft pack of medication. "perhaps you need less, or more." working the idea that the man was drugged, or perhaps needed more in a realistic stand-point. one who simply did not find the features of another before their skin nearly touched was an odd creation for any.