it's true, i crave you

The seas wine red; This is the death of beauty

this is the time and this is the place to be alive

. . .


Champion waited for a reply, but the male was silent. No, no, that wasn't quite true. She had heard the earlier hiss, which had been both warning and so inviting. This one was a hard one to figure out, but then, so was she. And at that moment neither seemed to be getting anywhere with the other's riddles. Champion watched him creep forward once more. Everything about him spoke of how indignant and perhaps even injured he had been that she pulled away. And how angered he was by it. Then again, when he'd licked at his neck hadn't anger been exactly what he showed when he was most pleasured? Champion was half inclined to keep making prints in the sand; to travel into the damper sand and keep herself away. If he would not play any of her simple games, why should she play his greater one? But in the end she chose to remain in place. The truth was, even if she was wanting more out of the male, she enjoyed the touches that he gave. She arched her neck like a fine bred horse and let his pink nose make contact with her cheek.

But though the touch might be gentle, the words that came with it were not so. Champion's nearest ear cupped round. She heard the change in the male's voice, and the lace of anger that gave it it's tremor. Not exactly the gentleman this one. But then Champion hadn't asked him to be. Truth be told she was a strong female who was attracted to strong males. She liked a man to know what he wanted and how to get it. It was natural instinct. All animal's were supposed to seek out that which was most worthy to carry on the next generation. It seemed that the male was of like mind. ...and he had chosen her. His next lyrics of yearning only solidified the observation in her mind.

To be 'possessed' was no strange thing to Champion. In her birthpack, all females were there to be mates, to raise pups, or look after and heal others. The males of the group were warriors who gave their last breath and first hunts to protect them. Sometimes the higher ranking males would make more than one fae - it was not strange. There was no shame in being owned by so grand a creature. It gave purpose and place and power. Champion's only gripe with the system was that it looked down on female's as being capable of anything but what they said they were able to do. Champion was shunned for being an able warrior instead of being more sought after. For once, things seemed to be going as they ought; as nature intended. But did that mean she should snap immediately onto the hook? Champion's mind did not lean one way or the other. Unlike her body - her skull was pressing carefully into his touch, enjoying it as much as she had his earlier one - maybe more. With his deep intake of breath, she had thought his statements over, and she was trying to swim through a hormone veiled mind towards some sort of answer and reply - But then the male spoke again.

"You would look ever-so-lovely wearing a crown in my kingdom."

That caught her by surprise. Was he simply being poetic again, was he trying to tempt her, or was he really making her an offer. Champion replied words truthful enough to work for any of the options. Yet her voice was softer than before, almost a low whine, as though she were pained to bring up what had been proven to her by experience. "With every crown comes its own set of chains, ghost."
she sighed quietly, remaining still. "Don't you know that?" Her voice was little more than the sound of breathing now. "In my short life I have seen great warriors fall, a queen dethroned, and a kingdom topple. Sometimes it seems no matter how high you dream, you are just waiting for a wave of ill luck to come and turn your castles back into sand." Sincerity and sorrow weighed down the slow rollings of her voice. "Please," she prayed, "Do not think me ungrateful. It is merely that I have been disillusioned to the baubles of rank and title. I know the work and sacrifice that comes with them." Deep words for so young a heart. "And I can take on such things; I can. - So long as within the grand design one is allowed the simple, beautiful things. A roll in the sand, a stare at the stars- a touch from a lover." She shivered gently at the last words, and it effected her voice ever so slightly. Until then she had remained with her face broadside to his. She made no claim upon his eyes or features, she'd just hoped he would listen. Now though, she turned slightly, coming let their glorious red gazes meet. This had been her last attempt. She wasn't playing vague games anymore, she was being open; laying out an integral part of her soul to be clearly seen.
. . .