[P] up and up the smoke will roll

Eris Eternity · 05-25-2011, 04:44 AM

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Word Count » 416
Could OOC end after your post. I started firefly threads for you. :3

the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

She wanted him, and she had for longer than she could remember -- perhaps she had wanted him as long as she'd known him. Bright and sharp green eyes met his jaden gaze briefly and flicked away, drawing no pleasure from taunting and tormenting him. She certainly disliked restraining herself, after all -- yet the guilt wore on her. Mate or not, Larkspur had shown her kindness. He had cared for her, though he was bound only to the children. She knew many might have departed anyway, despite the children, but Larkspur had stuck around and cared for the mother as well. Eris did not want to feel burdened to Larkspur; the sable hued woman did not like the feeling of owing someone something. Most of all, she did not like feeling owned, and certainly, this was what that was.

Her ear twitched at his words, and she could only smile faintly, nodding her head. He did smell good, and he smelled none too dissimilar from Larkspur or any other D'Angelo. She would not have known they were kin by scent alone, but there was that faint flare of similarity in their scents. That was not why she liked Ouija's scent, however -- she could not place reason as to why she found the smell of him enjoyable. His lust singed the scent with fire and spice, making it all the more enjoyable to the sable hybrid. She was sure her scent, too, was tinged with want for him; she could feel this want in her bones and blood and everywhere else, prickling and tingling through her flesh.

“You,” she wanted to respond in lusty growl. There was no interest for the hybrid in the gris-gris anymore. It was Ouija she wanted to know -- the curves of his body and the hard strength of his muscles and other places, too. Instead, the coyote buckled against her own desires, thinking logically for all the fire in her body. Bold as she was, Eris didn't dare roll around on the grass with Ouija here. Even if Larkspur did not see, Anathema was thirty strong and someone was likely to. It would get back to Larkspur shortly, or Ouija's own woman, whoever she was. Both ears flickered backwards in annoyance at this thought, and the dark woman's chartreuse eyes rolled away from him contemptuously, staring away into the distance.

“Whatever you see fit to teach me,” she responded, sounding colder and more distant than she had wanted to.

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