[m] [MaMa] spilled milk tears

[Shiloh Dawnbringer]

I am stoopid about ghostness and what exactly he looks like now, so I was vaagueee. D: Also I'm at school so this is short -- you can has possession time now. >:3
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[/html] A cold, ethereal wind penetrated both her coats, tan leather and milky-white fur, and Shiloh knew he was finally coming. She shivered as the gale blew again, whipping her tail behind her, and knew that Hell must be a lake of ice rather than fire and brimstone. Why else would so much warmth be sucked from the air? Then again—he had to be a beast of fire and heat; it was the only way to explain how, even as her skin prickled against the late year’s chill, a warm flush could rise along her neck and set her heart to pumping oh-so-hot blood.

Her name was crooned in the voice of a demon, and the Dawnbringer found herself smiling. It wasn’t tender and happy, but it wasn’t acidic, either—rather, it could be best described as ironic and amused, and it gave her face a sultry look.

“It’s taken you long enough,” she dared to growl, pivoting again that she might catch a glimpse of his shade against the trees. If she looked hard enough, she could see them: a pair of electric blue orbs hovering in the cool darkness, such a beautiful color that by all means shouldn’t belong to him. Her own cerulean eyes narrowed against another gust of wind, and one hand fell into the warmth of her pockets again, claws playing against the small blades’ edges. The other stretched out in the monster’s direction, a single bead of blood balanced on her fingertip like morning dew.
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