M [MaMa] -Silicone Belladona

Thorn Russo · 09-22-2012, 07:48 PM

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Russian word is "beloved." Sorry this took so long.

Thorn stood and watched the slave bring the sizzling meat with its swirling juices to Izzy. The meat hadn't been on the fire very long but he could smell the char on the meat where it rested against the hot coals and could almost taste the sweetness of the root vegetables and protein richness of the meat. His own meals always served to wake up his stomach. He could eat raw meat, although he liked the warmth the fire brought to the protein he could eat it without. There was something to be said for charred, warm and oily meat fresh from the fire.

He watched Isabella sit, seeing her grace and the strong but delicate way she seemed to do everything. She was always poised, always ready and yet never seemed to need to go or do anything. Thorn saw her as a strong lady of leisure with a mind full of things she wanted to do but never knowing what that might be. The elder Russo often wondered how she did it, how she kept up that poise and strength without occasionally just letting go. He had tried before to remain strong, courageous and formal. It lasted maybe a day before the white wolf got weak, scared and hippie-ish. You can't make a deer not run from a wolf and you can't make a Thorn not run towards green smoke. Sitting down he briefly, fleetingly contemplated sitting in a pose similar to Izzy but decided against it in favour of cross-legged with his kilt draped around his legs and knees. The moment his bottom hit the ground he grasped a small piece of meat and put it in his mouth smiling as he chewed.

When his love spoke Thorn smirked, just a little smile out of the corner of his mouth while he chewed. He swallowed before speaking. "What's mine is yours, my любимая. My reserves can always be replenished." Her decision (for it was a decision when Isabella spoke, not a suggestion) was a good one and Thorn let recently licked clean fingers stroke his chin. Before he could speak though Isabelle offered him a piece of meat and despite his efforts his tail thumped happily behind him. Taking it gently he mimicked the gesture, his grin widening. He considered the thought of an incense stick and his "reserves" mingling and had a tiny eureka moment. "Perhaps I can make a stick with rabbit fat, your scented oils and a little of my reserve oil to make a stick of union. Would only require us to burn one stick." Genius.

WC: 442

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