08-04-2009, 08:34 PM
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Will go ahead and title you now... C:
Her pale eyes seemed to sparkle, alight like ice in the sun as the mischief warmed her up. She was definitely flirting now, that much was obvious. And welcomed. Her smile was broad and enticing, as though she knew her way around the ropes. And just like that, the king was back in a good mood - one ripe with anticipation. "Fear not, jolie, Jacquez Trouillefou does not disappoint." He licked his lips, black eyes lingering on her lean, deep-chested frame. Those long legs must be killer.
The scent of the salty sea pervaded the air around them, calming and comforting the wayward king. It was a familiar presence, as was the swishing of the waves at his back, the warmth of the sand beneath his feet. But the sun was slipping from its perch, shadows lengthening as the breezes began to cool. Carelessly, the collie-hybrid flicked the doubloon over his shoulder, letting it splash into the low tide without a backward glance. He had found a new, better toy to amuse him.
"Yes. The kingdom of the Cour des Miracles... Do you believe in miracles, lass?" he asked slyly, adopting one of her own quaint words. "Because we offer sanctuary to every breed and creed, no questions asked except this one. Do you want to join us?" His velvet-smooth voice was enticing - he wanted her now, wanted to claim her as one of his own. She was unorthodox and stood up for herself and clearly liked to explore, if she was so far from home. In other words, she was perfect. No wolf pack, even if they admitted her, could offer her a place that felt like home. This was the only place for wanderers to be welcome.
Her pale eyes seemed to sparkle, alight like ice in the sun as the mischief warmed her up. She was definitely flirting now, that much was obvious. And welcomed. Her smile was broad and enticing, as though she knew her way around the ropes. And just like that, the king was back in a good mood - one ripe with anticipation. "Fear not, jolie, Jacquez Trouillefou does not disappoint." He licked his lips, black eyes lingering on her lean, deep-chested frame. Those long legs must be killer.
The scent of the salty sea pervaded the air around them, calming and comforting the wayward king. It was a familiar presence, as was the swishing of the waves at his back, the warmth of the sand beneath his feet. But the sun was slipping from its perch, shadows lengthening as the breezes began to cool. Carelessly, the collie-hybrid flicked the doubloon over his shoulder, letting it splash into the low tide without a backward glance. He had found a new, better toy to amuse him.
"Yes. The kingdom of the Cour des Miracles... Do you believe in miracles, lass?" he asked slyly, adopting one of her own quaint words. "Because we offer sanctuary to every breed and creed, no questions asked except this one. Do you want to join us?" His velvet-smooth voice was enticing - he wanted her now, wanted to claim her as one of his own. She was unorthodox and stood up for herself and clearly liked to explore, if she was so far from home. In other words, she was perfect. No wolf pack, even if they admitted her, could offer her a place that felt like home. This was the only place for wanderers to be welcome.