she’s got jumper cable lips
she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death
The perfect someone has, surprisingly and without question, become even more perfect.
In the days between their last adventure together, Wolfbane has grown into even better shape and the Khaleesi delights in watching the sunshine glint on his golden-skinned muscle as he dips through the sky to meet her. There is strength in his body now, adding definition and detail to the otherwise gangly and long figure of his childhood. They had both been that way — long-legged and stumbling over themselves — yet now they find their bodies in entirely different situations. Situations that are not ignored nor declined.
A wild grin finds Wishbone’s face as Bane approaches, his comment well-met. There is something different about him, she notes. He is no longer stiff under the gaze of Nerine, nor nervous with the way her amber eyes slip along the length of his neck and down to his deep chest. He is suave, easily charming her with a kiss to her cheek. “I could say the same for you,” she says warmly. “I bet every Loessian mare is crawling over your delicious body.” Oops. Although the words are husky, Wishbone doesn’t regret them.
Instead, she replaces his touch with one of her own; a gentle, albeit suggestive, breath of her air whispering along his neck just behind his ear before she nips at the tender skin ever so lightly. Wolfbane is gesturing to make herself comfortable and she finds it is easy to do so, even as they walk deeper into the supposedly-enemy territory. She is protected under his olive gaze; even if Arthas or another Loessian arrives, the gold-and-blue stallion will vouch for her. She knows this as clearly as she knows the sun will rise and set.
He senses something within her (perhaps something she hasn’t even sensed herself) but Wishbone turns to him with a warm expression in her amber eyes. She chalks it up to her thoughts about the turmoil between Loess and Nerine, between the Allies and the Others, as she calls them. “What? Nothing’s wrong, Bane.” She laughs then, a throaty sound that brightens the otherwise quiet of their surroundings. “I’ve just missed you.” It’s an honest confession and her sunset eyes are finding his olive ones, even as their feet keep their movement.
wishbone
@[Wolfbane]