no such thing as ordinary, love; elysium, any

[Elysium]

watch your tongue or have it cut from your head,
save your life by keeping whispers unsaid.

   He savors the sweet nectar of the earth as his tongue uncoils and laves gently at the innermost sweetness of a freshly bloomed blossom, its fragile petals encased in dew. Winter had once all but enveloped the land in its icy embrace, swallowing with it the delicate blooms and sweet tendrils of grass, leaving nothing but a thin sheet of ice and its frostbitten devastation in its wake. Now the sun shines, though, peeking between thick, rolling clouds, dousing the otherwise frigid ground with bright rays of sunlight. It leaves behind fertile, moist soil and puddles scattered about, dotting the seascape with its splattering reflections of the sky.

    He lets the nectar settle along his taste buds, savoring its sugary delight, his compound eyes unable to blink but instead, he begins to tune out the world. His vision, usually fragmented into pieces, was now blurred as he relinquished himself to his own gluttonous pleasure. There was little he craved more than the intoxicating blend of earth and glucose. In the darkness of winter, he had gotten by only barely with shreds of moist bark and twigs. This experience was a true pulse of pleasure that coursed through his veins, invigorating him, inspiring him.

     Each time, it brings him to life, his mind and body full of vim and vigor.

    As he withdraws his sated proboscis into his mouth, tucking it within, he pauses to take in his surroundings at last. He focuses his vision, attempting to slowly piece together the image before him: the streams of sunlight, the bright reflection of the water, the growing flora and fauna - and a slim figure in the distance. It is another, not unlike him, and his curiosity is instantaneously piqued. He must know who this creature is - who else would venture so far out into the valley, bathing in the fresh light of morning?

    He dared venture closer, his six limbs shifting and moving with an eerie grace as he lowers his gaze, focusing on what he can hear. The gentle squeal of an animal in pain strikes him as odd; the figure before him is clearly like himself in species. It is only when he pauses in the thicket of golden tendrils, which lap softy against his mottled hide, that he is able to take in the full, unadulterated sight of her. Her skin was bare, a dull cream with a blend of smoke - hairless, naked. Her eyes were dark - as dark as his own, if not darker - and her mouth .. there was something peculiar about it, but he does not have to wonder long.

    He can see the trickle of blood trailing down her bare flesh, and slowly his wings rise to the side, flaring up in involuntary uneasiness.

    He knows not what she is capable of, but he knows he does not want to be her next victim.

    "I hope you are not seeking anything else to satiate your unusual hunger. I dare say I would not want your mouth on me - at least not in that manner." He muses, his voice thick and rolling as he speaks deliberately and with dry humor. His muscles remain tense, but he sees her strangeness as intriguing, for he is strange too. His eyes remain as unblinking, iridescent orbs, fluttering about as he takes in the altogether thrilling image of her in.

elysium

no mercy from the edge of the blade,
dare escape and learn the price to be paid.