11-05-2017, 01:02 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
She turns to leave and Ivar reaches out. “Stay.” He commands, his scaled muzzle resting against her fetlock. There’s a familiar instant of emptiness to her eyes, and then she’s relaxing, fluttering down to the sea like a swan. Ivar reaches out to stroke her shoulder, tasting the sweet air of Ischia on her skin, and he murmurs wordless hypnoses into her skin. When they sink beneath the sea, they do so together, tangled in a lover’s embrace. Azazelle is smiling, utterly blissful. The sadness of her twin is forgotten as she drowns in pleasure and the promises of a handsome man. She comes to rest on the floor of the ocean, a soft smile on her black muzzle. The water around them is red and her withers are in tatters. It seems to be his mark, Ivar muses as he floats pensively beside her. This is the third body he’s left in the ocean in less than two years; perhaps he should be more careful. minimal grullo tobiano king of loess |
rip azazelle >:]