Darling, you wound me

The black daemon sat, basking in the spring sunlight. She was right beside the river, it was dying up a little in the heat. It was quite hot for the spring. And he black fur trapped the heat. She opened an eye and gazed lazily around, she was full from her kill, a wounded elk. The blood stained her maw, but she wore it like a sort of trophy. She opened her eyes and leaned down to the water, she began to lap the cool liquid up, it trickled down her throat, cooling her down. She stood up and began to wander upstream, walking slowly, not wanting to rush. To spoil the moment of pure bliss.



speech.