My Lipgloss is Poppin'

*Claude* · 02-27-2015, 11:15 AM

He had taken to falling a considerable distance behind her, having little desire to get anywhere quickly. He hadn't a place in mind, so why should he rush? It seemed, though, that she had found somewhere at least remotely suitable, and so his ears would perk at the sound of her lilting voice drifting toward him. La chaleur peut ne pas être en mesure de vous entendre, mais je peux. Eyes of gold flashed in the harsh sunlight as he caught a glimpse of her white tendrils slipping away from him, into the darkness of a willow's hanging limbs. Il ne est pas sage de se glisser dans l'obscurité, sans même un regard, Rozenn. He slipped forward, giving a passing glance to the parts of the willow she had yet to explore. There seemed to be no danger awaiting them, and so the rusted man would slide beneath the hanging tendrils of the willow alongside his striped kin. His tail flickered idly behind him, moving slowly and with much grace. He had reason to be cautious. This was the season of their birth, and subsequently the season in which every man in the world would view his sister as a bitch in heat. It was his responsibility to keep the rutting dogs at bay, and he would succeed. Snow-blown face would butt into her right hip as he slithered alongside her, ruffing her fur all the way up her side until he reached her neck. He knew it would drive her nuts, as it would if she had done the same to him, but he also knew that he was the only being in the world that could ever get away with it.

“SPEAK,”

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My Lipgloss is Poppin'

Claude