Melted Puddles of Roses

*Isardis* · (This post was last modified: 02-05-2014, 09:41 PM by Isardis.)

He would chuckle weakly at her response, finding a fickle sense of pleasure in the fact she was unaware of his title, his stature. ?Of course,? he would respond, hardly making any attempts to be modest, instead taking a daring step closer to her before choosing to seat himself. Extended tail would wrap around his coiled limbs, delicate curls of silver sitting light against the fading snow, ?And what is her story?? Hell, he never really cared for stories, but as ruby gaze would hold against her own, Isardis couldn?t help but persuade himself to listen; perhaps seduced by her tenderness.

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