10-25-2017, 06:15 PM
I love the way you rake my skin, I feel the hate you place inside.
She prefers his viscera to remain intact and the blood hot in his veins rather than cooling on the earth or on her blissful upturned face that receives the kiss from his fanged mouth against her forehead like a benediction. There is time enough for predation upon one another later, to feast and feed on each other’s flesh and blood and emotion. So too, is there time enough later to make pledges of faith from their dark hearts for the rest of their lifetime together. Femur believes that they have forever for all of this. To her, it makes no difference if neither of them is immortal - some things transcend the mortal coil that they’ll eventually slough off to go some place else, together.The depth of emotion that she feels for him is a tether that nothing but a god or death can attempt to undo. It is shocking to realize that she would go to the ends of the earth for him and back, if that’s what it took. But so too, does she realize that he’d not ask this of her ever because she is there, tucked into his side as much as she can get without actually climbing into his skin so that their bones fit snugly together beneath all that iridescent and speckled blue. Her mother neglected to mention to her that this is what love feels like, but she understands that some things are meant to be discovered for one’s self and not just gleaned of from talk while at the milk-heavy teat.
She likes his humor, dark and delicious as it spins around her beginning with that half-hearted grin of his. The breath goes out of her for the precious seconds it take for his lips to skim like velvet over her face from crown to nostril and back up again. She’d forget to breathe time and time again just to feel like that, because it struck her as a form of worship. The kiss on her cheek arouses an answering hunger inside her that combusts into a hot hot flame like his eyes had done once, back in the forest. He is not finished though and she groans deep inside herself as she becomes his altar and his mouth awakens small spots of heat wherever it touches, coming to rest on her narrow breast where her heart thumps like a frightened (it is not, but that is the pace it maintains) rabbit.
Longclaw’s voice heats her ears as much as his mouth heats her skin.
She burns for him, in places that she never knew she could burn in without actual spontaneous combustion. The flick of his tongue is almost too much for her and she stifles a cry that is mixed full of desire and desperation. Her eyes have glossed over with a new kind of fever and her brain is fogged with a special kind of fuzz so that all she can do is nod her head in response to his demand. Femur understands, better than he realizes and can only murmur her sole answer to him - “Yours.” Forever, and ever. She believes that forever is theirs’ for the taking.
Besides, they put the stars to shame with the feeling in their hearts. She knows that to be true because everything is pale and paltry in comparison to when she is with him. He makes the world brighter, not that it had been all that dark but he brings a new perspective to the way she looks at things when their skins touch. Gives new meaning to her life to open her eyes and look, like a wolf that tastes the thrill of the hunt for the first time. Femur tastes, longs for more and bounces on her feet beneath his talk of us, den, and the tug on her pale hair.
She turns westward a second after him;
“Come with me.” Femur can only meet his urgent tone with a snort as he slips his stallion-skin for that of the wolf. She has never been this close to him during the transformation and if she had blinked, she might have missed it altogether as he bounds on ahead of her, quick on his paws. One steaming river, some vines and branches later, she finds herself immersed in the thick of a tropical jungle that makes her horse-skin sweat. It is amazing to discover it is hotter here as if they’d ventured inside the very mouth of the volcano, but the heat is more sultry and sluggish against her skin than burning. She decides that she likes it in an instant, wolf and mare, it suits the two of them like their own hot hearts.
The tree is tall and massive in her girth from what Femur can make out of the sweltering murk. It competes with lesser saplings but still manages to dwarf most of them, and by the time she looks from the tree to Longclaw, he is gone! Vanished! “Coming?” he calls out to her, a disembodied voice that floats to her from somewhere behind the banana leaves. Femur cannot help the chuckle that escapes her fanged mouth as she pokes first just her head in between the wide leaves and can barely make out his wolf shape in the back of the den. “Is there room enough for me?” Her face is coy and deceptive as it feigns an expression of awe and disbelief (because he is a clever beast and because she doubts even her pony-sized butt will fit in there), but there is just a hint of a smirk about her lips. Clever wolf, indeed.
Femur
@[Longclaw] omg she lubbers him! lol