the ragged, noxious weed

Sirius Revlis · 05-11-2011, 08:06 AM

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Word Count » -- :: <3

The woman had many skills, and languages were not one of them. Sirius accepted this, as he had accepted the charcoal shaman fully - Her life was meant for luxury and power. While he held her tight to the pedestal of leadership they intended to take, Eris would never require the skill of speaking another language. There would be those who, at her beck and whim, could do such a thing for her.

Along the same train of thought, he needn't necessarily have taught her to hunt - But that was a different entity in the umber male's train of thought. She had needed that skill; not for lone living, per say, for Sirius was very much attached to her and well equipped to hunt enough for them both. In the event that he could not, the male knew that her choice in partners, the oaf Larkspur, was dedicated to her beyond his understanding. No, the Revlis man had taught her how to hunt to prove to the woman that in spite of her pampered lifestyle, her whimsical yet often disturbing nature, she still had the ability to learn, and the ability to survive. He was confident now that, if the situation some day arose, Eris would be able to provide food for her spawn. She would not die where others might. She belonged to him now, and he could not bear the thought of anything less.

It was like an insurance policy that his calculative mind had divined. The sable-hued shaman had not resisted, for in her lowly rank at Anathema, it had been embarrassing to have no hunting skills. They had developed such a strange lust for secrecy, in those times spent together, and it had been an addictive source of energy, the need to remain eloped and mysterious. Such qualities, the leaders would be sure to breath into Salsola, for it was in their essence and it would soon be theirs to rule.

She was appropriately diminutive, something which flattered the self-assured ochre male. He was pleased to find that Eris' submissiveness did not detract from her energy, the strange essence of otherworldly intent that clung to her pelt. It created a strange burning within him, looking at her downcast expression, that the male was quick to recognize as attraction. Being no ignorant fool to the porous stirrings of lust, the male hastened somewhat to focus his attention on the gathering of the weeds.

Not long after, the Revlis man announced that they had gathered enough. Careful to keep his canny glances from straying to the fertile swell of her hips, the man briskly directed them back to the caves - Under the secrecy that fit so well to their darkened pelts, they would return to the undergrounds of the Old world, and dream dark and dazzling dreams of the lure that awaited them with spiny barbs.

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