your love's a drag, but I need it so bad

 The bronze mistress eyed the obsidian man with interest, fiery orange orbs roaming along his muscular body, taking in his very scent and every hair threads he possessed, registering them in her mind for further analysis. So I can see. she offered her dulcet sonnates, wrapped in warmth as her regalian pointed towards him, as a whole. His pigmentation was unique, exotic one might say; certainly not of these parts. For as long as she roamed the lands of South Boreas she had witnessed lupines of all nature and colorations however he, he alone had something special. His blood called for her own it might seem and it did not took long to pin the lines along his snout and eyes with a name. Ithuriel. a purr, a whisper upon the wind, the name burning her tongue. She did not know for sure, she only had a spider web of hope to hang onto however what she did know was that there were others, scattered like sheep across who knows how many miles.

An unus ex nobis? (Are you one of us?) she questioned the male. Was there any possibility? By his pigmentation alone she would say so but who was she to be certain. Assumptions were something dangerous and she never jumped head firstinto anything.

hear ye', hear ye'