one time

she is of shimmering red; a underlying tone thatr curses her brunette tones into looking something more then what she is in that figure. a woman of no game, no midnight hide-ways that she would find herself crawling from a flowerbed as she tumbled from her room. a child;almost in her youth and fragile femininity. tossing from her cut jaw and the well-kept touch of hand. she is a clean woman, here, among the sand where the grains brought her paw to be smooth after extended use. a grind-stone that crosses among pedicured toes.

her attention is caught then, a dance of the off-shore breeze brought the familiar taste to catch her jowl. the gentle popping called the brunnettes ears to swivel in response, the gentle dip of her cranium as it turned in its slow test. as if she didnt wish to look upon another fur-beast, a hell-hound that crossed just as her and perhaps a creature that does not bleed like she; a creature of the sea where the salt mends her wounds and the sirens do not sing for her, but for her. it is the beckon of the seagul that brings on her words; a deep work finding a place in her throat before her ruby red lebs would move in speech."do you rise for the bird, or for the silence of the sea?" it is her voice that is angled over the ocean's tumble; the crashing and the mist that sprayed up to the curve of her cheek. the water that gentle swept the sand from beneath her toes as in time they would slowly sink for the weight behind extensive appendages. the babe rose then; extensive legs unfolding from the gown that covered her sun-kissed skin and in a slow rise; a draping of her body does she approach the foregion woman with a dance in her step. a gait that does not play in those who do not, an odd one but once that keeps her neck craned high;stiff and her sea blue eyes watching. "my mother once told me, the ones we feed upon are prey just as we are to the sea;to the world." she works; steadying her toes from the woman had she not stepped away from Lisbeth's in orderly advances. a closeness; a bond that could fix in the play of dominance and in true; did the brunette babe watch the woman's eyes for what she would do with the words that left her mouth. "do you agree?" it is with a cocked head, sharp eyes line in the deepest eyeliner that carted to the date does she loom. close, not a bare skin to touch another but for the breath did they share.