12-04-2017, 01:31 PM
It's in her kiss; the black seal.
The quiet is soothing to her.Suffocating, stifling - the air is thick, but she has long since become accustomed to the density of the still, unmoving oxygen festering in the depths of the dark, concentrated darkness. The fire had long since slipped away, but the ash remains, tainting the woodland with charred remnants of what the flame had consumed. She is a part of it (a part of the darkness, that is) and her breath is shallow while the broad hearth of her chest is barely rising with her baited breath; a predator through and through.
She has never felt more at ease than she had amid the thicket, with dry and brittle bark clutching hungrily at the swell of her feminine hip - the jagged bone resting against the curve of aged oak as her breath is caught within the confinement of her throat.
She is drawn to him from the shadow, and the shimmer of her eye and the warmth of her breath across his hip is enough to speak of her curiosity, and her desire to know him - a glint of curiosity tucked away behind the impish gleam of her eye. She had heard much about him, and though he may have yet to taste his name on her lips, he is formidable, and his reputation precedes him. Her silver eye roves the slope of his spine, the curve of his hip, where scarring lay - a story etched into every line, and she is a voracious bibliophile, anxious to devour each word carved into flesh.
”You must be Lokii,” she murmurs, close enough for her shoulder to brush his own. ”I am Thana,” the Queen, she doesn’t say. It does not need to be said. She is a only a companion to carnage and a lover of destruction. No crown of thorns or coveted title could speak of what she had done and what she could do, and that can all be seen in the mischievous gleam of her eye, and in the sultry tone of her voice, carried to him through the dense thicket and echoing off the birch and hickory that surround them. ”I’ve been looking for you.”
Thana.
It runs deeper than you can dare to dream it could be.