01-06-2020, 03:29 PM
If the lion could purr, he absolutely would. He cannot quite feel her lips upon his mane, but the indention is there (and her warm breath) and pleasure blooms like a moonflower in his chest.
Lilt mentions Sylva but Litotes has his eyes closed and what words he MIGHT understand are lost in the decadence of this rare peace. He will follow her anywhere, though that is more a sensation than a coherent thought—and Lilt certainly does not know of the loyalty that builds walls around his heart.
Against her legs he builds a home, a castle, well enforced with the fiercest monsters and bravest soldiers—she the country he lives within.
Lie does not know how to show her that he is with her now, forever; but when he walks away, he looks expectantly back at her in the hopes that she will take the lead—for without her he has no direction, this moon and this night and this shadow all no more home to him than the cave that held him prisoner.
Lilt mentions Sylva but Litotes has his eyes closed and what words he MIGHT understand are lost in the decadence of this rare peace. He will follow her anywhere, though that is more a sensation than a coherent thought—and Lilt certainly does not know of the loyalty that builds walls around his heart.
Against her legs he builds a home, a castle, well enforced with the fiercest monsters and bravest soldiers—she the country he lives within.
Lie does not know how to show her that he is with her now, forever; but when he walks away, he looks expectantly back at her in the hopes that she will take the lead—for without her he has no direction, this moon and this night and this shadow all no more home to him than the cave that held him prisoner.
