Shelter For My Soul

The damsel gazed up at the larger male, trying to read the emotions that passed through his mind. Was that a hint of protectiveness that she saw there? Her matched hued eyes glimmered back, a smirk parting her black lips. Another feeling lingered there, something that she had a harder time addressing. Possession... Othello had a very hard time wrapping her mind around that. She was unsure of her own feelings, so trying to mix his own in the mix was just a whole lot of confusion. She didn't want to think about it right now, she just wanted to be with him. It had been so long, too long. His touch is what she craved, what she dreamed, so pressing herself to him was not difficult to do. His nose found the back of her neck, touching her with a caress so natural, she hardly felt it. This all just felt so... right. How could that be? Why was this whole thing so hard to understand?

She didn't miss the fact that Crucifix had a hard time letting her go. She didn't wish to pull back from his grip, but it was rather hard to have a civil conversation when she was flush against his chest. As much as she would like to, she had a strong wish to see his face when he spoke. Was she searching for something there? Maybe an answer to her question, or maybe she was inquisitive to see if her soul matched his, if he felt the same way that she did. Othello was scared to admit her true feelings for this beast before her, but if she saw that he shared her own? Maybe that would make it easier. Perhaps...

With bright optics she watched the male stretch before her, and she found that she had to hold herself back from leaping on him and tackling him to the ground. Oh what fun would that be! But no, she had posed a question, and she was curious for the answer. Hopping on him now would stunt their conversation, and that was something that she didn't wish upon them. For the first time in a long time, she found herself longing for a conversation. Usually she ignored them like the plaque, but at the moment she couldn't wish for anything more. Well... there was something but that didn't involve much talking at all. Biting her lower lip, she shook those late night images from her mind and focused on Cru's moving lips. She relished the sound of his voice, his vocals so unique. His words though, caused her to become concerned. Help him out of trouble? She longed to ask more, but she did not push the topic. He did not seem to want to carry that part of their exchange, and Othello didn't want to push him. So she just smiled, shaking off her concern. He seemed to be okay with it, so she would be fine as well.

When she flicked the water, she was glad that Crucifix took it well. She was worried, for whatever reason, that he would be mad. It was an accident. Othello was that worried about pushing him away, she wanted nothing more than to have him closer. He pushed his coat along hers, and she watched with careful eyes as he walked past her. What was this brute planning? Turning, she found herself following behind Cru, not wanting to leave his side. Tilting her head, she lifted her paw and was about to ask what he was doing, when a large wave of sprayed the front of her form. The dame shrieked, the cool water drenching her cream coat and plastering it to her medium sized frame. "Crucifix!" She called, shivering and laughing at the same time. "How dare you get a lady wet? That is not very gentlemanly of you!" Her vocals were still somewhat shrill, the initial shock had still not worn off. He was facing her, and that earlier feeling to charge him rushed back. An oh so wicked smile split her maw, and Othello hit the ground running.

The dame kicked up sand as she raced for the male, letting out a giggled battle cry as she jumped into the sky, launching herself at him. If she had calculated her moves right, she would headbutt him into the water. She landed with a splash, another thrill leaving her mouth. So this is what fun was supposed to be like.