Lips drew against silk, satin cresting on the tongue. Heated breaths and passionate glances stole across the faces of two unlikely companions that met in unusual circumstances. Blood is thickest between the two, but their passion and drive unearthly. The heavens and hell's of the world could not contain their passion and fury. Bodies twisted in the light of death itself, illuminated,
inspired by the possibility of death itself. Eyes matched one another, both molten lava and purple edged orange brimmed with need, greed, desire, lust, wanton flames flickering in the darkness. His face buried in her chest and neck fluff as she drew tears and rips down his cheeks, his neck, behind his ears. Her claws dug deep and pulled out the demon inside, churning and raising the turmoil inside and causing it to ripple into a deep throaty groan of pleasure. The brute stirred beneath her, his body feverish, his eyes strained. She was his undoing, and with this last thread, her words untied the loose thread. He sighed into her, his whole body weight pressing into her upright hugging pose, scorned, forgotten, thrown away, dangerous, and yet so calm. He was drawn to her flames, like the moth, but he was also intent on devouring her.
A shaky sigh escaped his lips as their short embrace broke, the coldness around him sinking in, making him for a moment fear her leaving again. Although her words echoed in his mind, there was a bit of hesitancy in believing it.
What is real? Who do I trust? Who do I believe? For a moment, the brute took on a dark look, his head dipping out of the light. She'd pulled away, she'd
stopped. Was their passion one sided? Was she merely
tempting him? His eyes grew a new sort of frenzied, a dark lustful hate bubbled right below the surface. He wanted to rip her apart, show her what it meant to cross him. His tail swayed side to side, the coldness - even though it was blistery hot - sinking in and cloaking him like the grip of a birds' talons. His heart constricted, and he watched her, but instead of moving away, the woman had lay stretched on the ground, her eyes beckoning, her lips forming words just beyond his comprehension. With a small grin, the boy rose, the darkness receding, only slightly. Without his demons, he was nothing, merely a copy of the man he had become. Taking his position at her side, the male lay drawing his tongue across her nose, her brow, and her paws. He greedily took his space, pressing her against the stones, but his paws tangled with hers, and he lay his chin upon them.
"Yes, Thys. Rest, and refuel." The curl of his tongue at her name was deep with passion, but as his eyes watched hers flutter, he knew she was descending into dreams.
I'll be there with you soon, He mused silently, turning his head toward the path that drove them both to this place. Soon, he'd rise from sleep and need to find another outlet. Soon, he'd need to explore more and learn about this land. In the moments that drew out this mans' lack of sleep, he planned some natural courses. It was pertinent that he found his ways around this area, and that he made some allies that he could use, pawns to protect or infect the world around him. It was also necessary he began to learn about his environment, and the bearings that were before him, the good, the bad, and the ugly. As he slipped away, the bubbling of the lava erasing many of his thoughts and worries, he dreamed deep. Dreamed of a burning male wolf, extinguishing the light of an angel. Her wings broken, torn, and her body withering. Setekh found that he was hungering, hungering for her flesh. The flame cajoled to him, but an evil grin stopped him short. With razors, the flame bore into the angel, and once she was cut to ribbons, her ashes sprinkling the skies, the beats' attention turned toward him. With nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, he would be eaten as well, and left to litter the land like the dirt he was. This was no fairy tale, this was a nightmare, and a gripping tale of his parents demise and his worthlessness to them. Such a sad, sad story, but for another time.
He walks. "He talks." He thinks.
