crocodiles cry for the love of the crowd

Sirius Revlis · 04-25-2012, 09:59 AM

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There was only a slight pause within her, and one he expected, after the last time their bodies had made contact. Then, it had been a primal thing, two beasts exploding into action as their instincts took control, leading them down the dark and unyielding path of destruction and violence, the path that their hot blood and wicked eyes commanded of them. But now, in this room and by the frail light of a bitter Northern day, they were dressed in the pelts of civil creatures, standing upright and claiming a love that neither really knew the truth of. If Sirius were to know, then, of the loss that would soon befall both he and her, perhaps this sentiment they shared would have been more sincere.

But even he, cursed with a serpent's silver tongue and the ingenious wit of a madman, could not see into their cloudy future.

Her body folded into his, but where once there had been gaps and spaces and leanness against leanness, there was now the unfamiliar warmth of curves, the gentle plushness of what, in spite of its hard muscles and toned physique, was undoubtedly a woman's body. He was not slapped with surprise and yearning, as he had been prior - This time, the bitter man expected it, acknowledged it with grim dismay. Salvia was a woman now; The troubles of which would undoubtedly be revealed to him in time. She was no son, no heir to his throne; She was a daughter of the wilderness, and her gender alone made her more of a risk, more of a liability, to her King.

Her head slid under his bearded chin, rubbing against him in what was unmistakably a feline manner. The man's black lips twitched, and his arms held her close, held her strangely tight. She was warm in his embrace, and her words were spoken into plush, dark fur. "I know," Came his quiet reply, voice surprisingly weary, weary of the effort she had cost him, weary of the paranoia that overcame him even now, when she felt so sinfully pleasant and warm within his grasp.

Unable to allow himself the pleasure of lingering, the man allow his arms to fall limp, and he took a step back from the bruised and battered Salvia. Acidic eyes were unreadable as they bore into her. "Luna's colt, the grey. Take him for yourself, if you wish it. He will be bold, and strong, as you are, and he will require a firm hand to guide him," As you do.

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