i'd break the back of love for you.
@[Oxytocin]
She had nested here in Loess with her newest egg and waited patiently for the first sounds of a heartbeat within its ivory shell. The warm den had promised a perfect incubation for this child and she was prepared to raise another perfect baby of her own. Salvage had been so perfect that her heart raised when she dreamed of how this one would look. She awoke each morning with a smile on her face and eagerly pressed her ear to that egg.
But the heartbeat never came.
She waited all through the winter and spring. It was mid-summer when she finally came to accept that her baby had died before it was even born. Khuma hunted ravenously after that, gorging herself on weaker prey until she thought for certain she would burst. Sometimes she left carcasses just because the killing helped her forget that she had to clean out her nest. But now autumn has come and she supposes she could try again.
Tall and slender, she slinks her way back into Loess with a small smear of red across her lips from her last hunt. Her dark green eyes roam across the various bodies but none of them intrigue her enough to want any sort of coupling. But then there is one that looks unusual to her, even in today’s world. Snow white mane against ink black body. Khuma slithers up from behind and lets her side brush his just enough to alert him to her presence. She tilts her chin down so the black of her forelock nearly covers her doe eyes.
She stops just ahead of him and looks back at him. The dying light of the day exaggerates her curves and leaves her fiery red compared to his monochromatic body.
“I’m Khuma. Would you like some company?” she asks, her voice all breath and hunger. But she keeps herself muzzled for now as she watches him eagerly.
But the heartbeat never came.
She waited all through the winter and spring. It was mid-summer when she finally came to accept that her baby had died before it was even born. Khuma hunted ravenously after that, gorging herself on weaker prey until she thought for certain she would burst. Sometimes she left carcasses just because the killing helped her forget that she had to clean out her nest. But now autumn has come and she supposes she could try again.
Tall and slender, she slinks her way back into Loess with a small smear of red across her lips from her last hunt. Her dark green eyes roam across the various bodies but none of them intrigue her enough to want any sort of coupling. But then there is one that looks unusual to her, even in today’s world. Snow white mane against ink black body. Khuma slithers up from behind and lets her side brush his just enough to alert him to her presence. She tilts her chin down so the black of her forelock nearly covers her doe eyes.
She stops just ahead of him and looks back at him. The dying light of the day exaggerates her curves and leaves her fiery red compared to his monochromatic body.
“I’m Khuma. Would you like some company?” she asks, her voice all breath and hunger. But she keeps herself muzzled for now as she watches him eagerly.
khuma.