05-19-2009, 03:38 PM
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Shall we end this one here? ^=^
500+
In the silence her thoughts wandered to the future. Death was always at her heels, and she knew that another fate was waiting down a path that ended with Corvus Vendetta. And where before the woman had considered keeping Onus from her heart in a futile attempt to keep Death from his door (for she knew that he would pursue the crow-wolf regardless of any circumstance), she was now willing to give herself utterly to him. She already had. And unlike the prior three males in whose arms she had allowed herself to sleep, she felt a love for this man. And knowing the rites of this society, she was willing to keep herself singularly tied to him alone. And for once she could see the appeal in such a thing.
The woman reveled in his touch. It was as if she could feel and see many things through that simple proximity, as if the link that had been made through the act of making love still remained, still lingered. She wondered if he could feel it too. Love was a different experience for a female. It was a more psychological experience than that of a male, and she wondered now to what extent that was true. And it was strange, for while the woman in her solitude contemplated much, such thing as this connection was novel. It was similar and yet different to physical contact, similar and yet different from combat. She felt a thriving in her heart, in her soul, and yet that emotion in which she delighted held a danger. The black fae had made herself vulnerable to him, just as she knew that he had made herself vulnerable to her. Each had given each other a part of themselves. She would take great care in the care of him, and she felt that he would do the same for her.
"Gráím thú," the melody sang quietly in her old language, a soft susurrus that was said into his chest. Closing her eyes, the woman allowed the weariness to fall over her as she lay there with him in the silence of the cave. She felt that her solitude would both be easier and greater for this love, but it was not a question of what she wanted. It was a matter of what she was willing to give for him. With a soft smile the woman allowed his warmth to wrap about her as she shifted, pressing her body against his. At least for this one day the woman was idyllic. If she were to die tomorrow, felled by the fate of some battle, her soul would be at greater ease than it could have been yesterday. And for that single day, the woman allowed the troubles of the world to bypass her, shielded from the world by the walls of this cave and hidden by the darkness of the shadows. Forgotten was the ocean without, forgotten was the sky and the earth. For this moment, there was simply Onus and herself.
Shall we end this one here? ^=^
500+
In the silence her thoughts wandered to the future. Death was always at her heels, and she knew that another fate was waiting down a path that ended with Corvus Vendetta. And where before the woman had considered keeping Onus from her heart in a futile attempt to keep Death from his door (for she knew that he would pursue the crow-wolf regardless of any circumstance), she was now willing to give herself utterly to him. She already had. And unlike the prior three males in whose arms she had allowed herself to sleep, she felt a love for this man. And knowing the rites of this society, she was willing to keep herself singularly tied to him alone. And for once she could see the appeal in such a thing.
The woman reveled in his touch. It was as if she could feel and see many things through that simple proximity, as if the link that had been made through the act of making love still remained, still lingered. She wondered if he could feel it too. Love was a different experience for a female. It was a more psychological experience than that of a male, and she wondered now to what extent that was true. And it was strange, for while the woman in her solitude contemplated much, such thing as this connection was novel. It was similar and yet different to physical contact, similar and yet different from combat. She felt a thriving in her heart, in her soul, and yet that emotion in which she delighted held a danger. The black fae had made herself vulnerable to him, just as she knew that he had made herself vulnerable to her. Each had given each other a part of themselves. She would take great care in the care of him, and she felt that he would do the same for her.
"Gráím thú," the melody sang quietly in her old language, a soft susurrus that was said into his chest. Closing her eyes, the woman allowed the weariness to fall over her as she lay there with him in the silence of the cave. She felt that her solitude would both be easier and greater for this love, but it was not a question of what she wanted. It was a matter of what she was willing to give for him. With a soft smile the woman allowed his warmth to wrap about her as she shifted, pressing her body against his. At least for this one day the woman was idyllic. If she were to die tomorrow, felled by the fate of some battle, her soul would be at greater ease than it could have been yesterday. And for that single day, the woman allowed the troubles of the world to bypass her, shielded from the world by the walls of this cave and hidden by the darkness of the shadows. Forgotten was the ocean without, forgotten was the sky and the earth. For this moment, there was simply Onus and herself.