09-15-2017, 01:10 AM
THANA.
(as black as your soul)
”Such wit, wild one,” she croons softly to the enigmatic female known as Jah-Lilah, her two-toned gaze alight with mischief, hungrily tracing the thick and heavy outline of her feminine and curvaceous body. She could already taste the pine and sage of her skin, sharp and bitter on her tongue, and she can sense the sensuality exuding from her presence – she is intoxicating; an absolute delight. She would feast upon her later. ”I do like Dark-Moon. Fitting.”
She does not care for the rest –
Deathwish, with her haughty nonsense. She can hardly suppress an eyeroll and a sneer pulling across the soft features of her feminine face, though dried blood clings still to the corner of her mouth. She is insufferable at times (where had she come from?), but her sharp wit and quick tongue seemed to please Gryffen, and so she is quiet – for the time being (- still, a pang of jealousy stirs). She longed to probe her mind and devour her insecurities, but it could wait.
Heda - a fragile wallflower, with beauty draped over the delicate shape of her feminine body, but there is little of substance behind the golden flecks of her deep hazel eyes. She can almost taste the fear oozing from Heda’s pores, and it rouses the fanged beast inside of her, and the metallic taste of copper lingering on her tongue is hardly enough to sate her.
Ivar does not introduce himself, and she cannot seem to find the will to care. He is feigning strength and hardened resolve beside Heda, but all she can see is a spineless jellyfish squirming uncomfortably beneath her stare, lacking the backbone to verbally defend his unwitting Queen. She could only assume that she is the Queen - the land is otherwise quiet and still. Alas, Ivar may think of her as prey, but to her, he is insignificant.
Irritably, she presses against Gryffen, tucking the indigo of her body firmly against his own, attempting to sate the itch stirring inside of her as his teeth rake across the svelte length of her figure. She is bored, terribly so – though a wry sort of chuckle rises from the tightness at his sardonic jest. Ever the comedian, her cynical and caustic wraith.
”Oh, Taiga. Such a shame,” she murmurs coyly, lazily glancing between the fragile Queen and her malevolent wraith King. Little did she know just how heavy the burden of her words would be upon the indigo-tipped Queen of Loess. ”and it had just started to feel like it was truly our own. We should all hope that no other kingdom should suffer its same fate.”
She does not care for the rest –
Deathwish, with her haughty nonsense. She can hardly suppress an eyeroll and a sneer pulling across the soft features of her feminine face, though dried blood clings still to the corner of her mouth. She is insufferable at times (where had she come from?), but her sharp wit and quick tongue seemed to please Gryffen, and so she is quiet – for the time being (- still, a pang of jealousy stirs). She longed to probe her mind and devour her insecurities, but it could wait.
Heda - a fragile wallflower, with beauty draped over the delicate shape of her feminine body, but there is little of substance behind the golden flecks of her deep hazel eyes. She can almost taste the fear oozing from Heda’s pores, and it rouses the fanged beast inside of her, and the metallic taste of copper lingering on her tongue is hardly enough to sate her.
Ivar does not introduce himself, and she cannot seem to find the will to care. He is feigning strength and hardened resolve beside Heda, but all she can see is a spineless jellyfish squirming uncomfortably beneath her stare, lacking the backbone to verbally defend his unwitting Queen. She could only assume that she is the Queen - the land is otherwise quiet and still. Alas, Ivar may think of her as prey, but to her, he is insignificant.
Irritably, she presses against Gryffen, tucking the indigo of her body firmly against his own, attempting to sate the itch stirring inside of her as his teeth rake across the svelte length of her figure. She is bored, terribly so – though a wry sort of chuckle rises from the tightness at his sardonic jest. Ever the comedian, her cynical and caustic wraith.
”Oh, Taiga. Such a shame,” she murmurs coyly, lazily glancing between the fragile Queen and her malevolent wraith King. Little did she know just how heavy the burden of her words would be upon the indigo-tipped Queen of Loess. ”and it had just started to feel like it was truly our own. We should all hope that no other kingdom should suffer its same fate.”
Thana won't do anything to injure or harm Heda - however, she doesn't have the capacity to be friendly or diplomatic.
