girl talk
A womb is the first throne of kings. Came the lethal purr of the soon to be mother. Her autumn legs crossed one another in practiced grace as she easily followed the ashen queen advice and laid on the ivory blanket of frost. The movement she made was oddly feline, like a panther stalking her prey; her frame thin and supple, curvaceous even, only her abdomina region was bordering all the fat with her litter of spawns soon to arrive. Gods tried to test her will, breaking her wicked mind in the presence of the dear woman, yet she had emerged victorious. She was worm by Hannibal spawns but she still carried herself with such elegance that even her bones seemed to glide against one another. The abyss of her eyes lingered on Leera still with sympathy but now with better understanding. The High Lord did not leave much on her mind though the bronze Goddess sensed something dark in the man. How his rulling would manifest upon her stay in his Empire would only be seen with time. A warm chuckle erupted from the babe throat, honey embraced each of her melodious vocals in its dulcet tendrils, You will always remain a power hungry bitch. she purred sweetly, no malice was present in her words as she offered another chuckle to embrace the winter air, creating small bits of fog due the her own breath warmth. Hannibal Iber Klein seed resides within me and I am close to deliver his spawns. her weight would shift in order to allow her elongated, bushy tail to wrap around the two of them, a comforting attempt to offer some warmth, hoping the woman would welcome the gesture. If yours is a impatient bastard then mine is a pompous prick. a smirk tugged at the corner of her full, ebon lips; fire, spark and gasoline, all three of them were present within the autumn vixen gaze as she watched the ashen woman with interest, mischevious intentions clearly painted upon her face. |
