[MaMa] Still my body aches

[Mew Sadira]

Yeah I sorta left it vague just to accomodate whatever you might want

I'm sort of just rolling with it when it comes to where they are or what they're doing. Let me know if you'd rather plot it out! :3

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http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c13/v ... ablebg.jpg);background-repeat:no-repeat;background-position:top;"> Mew Sadira http://i.imgur.com/UBudd.png); font-family:tahoma, verdana; color: #000; line-height:1.3em; padding:8px; text-align:justify; color: #333; "> He was something like safety reincarnate. She had often wondered, in her youth, how exciting life would be, if only she had seized the opportunity to break free. In retrospect, there had been enough excitement in her life. Her children, the small furballs she had fought so hard for, suffered so much to bring to life, they were adults and elsewhere. And her face was not what it was, either, but broken and scarred. No, there had been excitement, there had been freedom, but she had spoiled it. Had she not broken free now? Was this the real deal? Ultimately, she was only once, and at the mercy of dice. The dice had fallen in her favour now, and she had fallen in favour of this old thing. He had looked perpetually surprised when she had laughed at him and told him yes, not at all taken aback with the prospect of being his mate. Why should she? He was a powerful male in his own sense. Not like her brother had been, the brute. Not like her previous conquests, all strong males, some younger than her. Perhaps he was more like Lubomir, but without that wretched baggage. Aranck's baggage was one she could deal with. The male gave a stupid grunt and she chuckled. Never had she thought she would be with a male whose age was nearly twice her own, and whose idea of communication was one with such a lack of finesse. But, again, there was also the hushed AniWayan that he spoke, one language she had not even attempted to master. She enjoyed hearing him speak it, such foreign things spilling out of his mouth in such a familiar voice, almost like a mystery in and of itself. Her voice sang as she began her sentence with a playful, but calm little laugh. "Sit down with me, then, you oaf." There was warmth in that word, however. Oaf was a word of tenderness, not one of insult. Green eyes moved back to stare at the horizon. Gentle light enhanced her broken profile. "Where to now, Aranck?"

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