monster, monster, under my bed

The carp clasped loosely between his forepaws was all but forgotten as he watched the titanic male mechanically go through the motions of skinning the coyote that lay between them. As those pale green eyes skimmed over the limp carcass, terribly pliant under the deftly moving paws of the obsidian giant, he realized the pelt was shot through with different hues of sapphire, cerulean, turquoise. Ah, it made sense why he bothered to put in the effort of preparing his meal before he ate it. Lifting those keen eyes up to the chiseled features of his dinner guest, he unabashedly examined the curve of his cheekbones and the defined ridge of his brows. There was a subtle curve to the edge of his jaw, where it met with his cheek. Oh, he was still a young thing. How sweet. The temptation arose suddenly to sidle closer and lean against his flank, quietly fawning over his handiwork. What a fun game that might be. However, the danger that came with getting into the personal space of such a titanic male at the lowly rank of slave? It certainly put a damper on his urges.

Thankfully, they were still stuck on the strange weather. The bright, shining face of the moon illuminated the slope of the young goliath's sturdy shoulders. When the stars came up, the young man lifted his attention to the heavens, exposing his throat. Would it be such a crime to gently nibble at the soft flesh and silky fur in the hollow of his jaw? As quick as it was bared, it was gone. They were looking at the strange fireflies now, dancing in the breeze in their hundreds of thousands. From a higher vantage point, he had looked down and seen their numbers stretching out over the landscape as far as his eyes could possibly see. "I don't know. They're beautiful, and so far they seem harmless... but, why all of a sudden?" his guest mused aloud, rich baritones rumbling in his chest. Flicking the dark tip of his tail against his thigh, the waif found himself shrugging lightly in response.

"I'm afraid I can't say, love. Do you think the little lights are what's become of the stars? The way the skies look now, it isn't unlike a meteor shower. Perhaps the stars have come to pay us a visit, to watch us from up close instead of being so far away.." he mused quietly, expression dreamy as he gazed out at the dancing flickers of light that stretched out towards the horizon. That was an idealistic notion, wasn't it? How very optimistic of him, and so deeply foolish. Nothing was every that simple, or so pitifully fantastical. Well, it appeared that if being a high class whore or an assassin ever stopped getting him by, he could become a storyteller. A soft snort of bemusement at his own thoughts escaped his maw, coupled with a hint of a rueful smile.

"Speech!"

TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2021