your hips on my jawline; feast

[Karsi]

karsi

My eyes witness the way the shadows begrudgingly give up his milk and honey form. He is is soft, delightful. But his voice gives way to something much more sinister.

I feel my lips crack and split into a wide smile. Pretty, innocent, flashing.

"It is you who has heeded. Do you talk to strangers often?" My voice is low, hushed, inanimately close between the golden creature and myself. I feel my jowls creak and ache but I can not swallow the too-wide smile. I watch how the boy child moves. He is slippery smooth and too clean for the grit of Beqanna. Too young to have feasted upon the body's temptations. He is but a lone child away from his mother's breast.

I do not give a fuck.

"You are one of Pollock's." Matter-of-factually. Point blank. Mypale ghost eyes know the bloodline. How could one not? Creamy gold coat, horns, split hooves. "Does you father know you are out after dark talking to strange women in the forest?" I muse with an almost coy glance. The smile has long since eased off of my features. I slip easily into the stoic cloak of my typical nature, curious of his response.

your hips on my jawline