She was a temptress. Her body was luxurious and subble. Her lips were fine onyx lines. Her fur was creamy and soft. Her hips were curvy and tail long. The woman was a figment of a mans very dreams. She moved with elegance and lust filled her eyes. She was a little beauty within a womans body. The girl knew how to use it. She stood within the vast snowfall. White powder blankets the ground before her. She nearly blended in despite the black that littered her upper body. Her lanky legs were engulfed by snow. The woman padded through the sparse pine. The scent of Glaciem was thick upon her luscious body. It was hard to miss. It was amplified by the pheromones that radiated from her body. The lovely woman was in heat and needed some relief. She wanted to meet with her King one on one. The woman knew what he wanted from her and had no issue wish giving that to him. Especially when she was in such a lust filled state. Her head tilted up and her beautiful song filled the brisk air. It was the song of the moon in which she practiced each night. The girl let her head fall back down as she sighed softly. The call was for her King, she would just hope he would come. Speech Thought Others

Her song would guide him to the northern reaches of their territory, one of the few places that still bore minor signs of frosting; summer had brought with it the somewhat unsuspecting change of sweeping emeralds and lush vegetation, calling forth the roaming hooves of elk and prey creatures alike. She was a pretty thing; her pale elegance and simplicity only to be the kind Isardis would proudly swoon over, sallow women had always withheld a weakness within his possessive mind. He had remembered the banshee?s name, but he hadn?t known much more of her, not that it particularly made a difference.

He would sway towards her, seamlessness evident within every stride, the upmost care taken to suggest magnificence; forever aware of the eyes that would follow him, seek his radiance. A brittle leer would begin to fold the coral corners of his maw, a faint rolling of amusement echoing from the deepest chasms of his throat. ?I do hope you have reason to interrupt me from my slumber, miss sallow,? he would continue towards her, no reservations taken as the albino would cease barely a meter from her touch, ?Not that I mind answering to such a pretty minx.?