|| LIKE A MOTH DRAWN TO MY FLAME

[Maribel]

Who cares if hell awaits? We're having drinks at heaven's gate. Mari should be afraid. He is everything she isn't. He is the darkness while she, in her natural form, a rather bright ray of gold. He is tall, large in all aspects. His form extinguishes her like a looming thunderhead crsuhing out the summer sun. Blue eyes widen as she seemed to be swallowed up against his mass when he is nearing her. Her own sense of smell, having once been offended, is now numbed and non occurring to her consciousness anymore. The darkness that is his being is surrounding her, collapsing all around her. He is asking what to call her and for a moment Maribel's mind whizzes and whirls in comprehension. "Maribel." It's all she can offer with her soft tongue and velvet lips. The melodic tones are low, a loud whisper in the damp night air. He seems to take her breath, stealing it away like the vacuum of a black hole. The death keeper, darkness lover. He is closing the space between them till the glisten of green is touching the corners of his mouth, glinting deep in the flecks of his eyes. Mari can only nod when he stats that she wanted to be in the field. She continues to nod in response to the way she decides what choices she makes. "Home. My Tundra." The crystalline words linger like lightning bugs on a summer drift. "If you were...interested-", she begins slowly, her eyes unable to look away from his, there are other horses. Many other horses. The Tundra is wonderful." Maribel's voice lifts slightly as she speaks of her home, drifting  between then. It is only after she speaks that her gaze breaks the spell that has entwined them. She peers across the field to see the first warmth of daylight changing the spring fresh sky, changing from the endless black to the first few random strays of a waking sun. Morning is upon them. Raw and new. M A R I B E  L