oblivion is the name of this abode: and she is there
It's a shift in tone she hadn't expected of the young woman, sincerity that Anju had assumed would be in short supply. Perhaps she had pegged Flora unfairly in a box too small for her but that doesn't mean she cannot adapt. She is far from disappointed.
Her touch shifts to run her thumb up the vein she can see inside Flora's elbow, meant to be comforting as opposed to the teasing enticement of her fingertips. "Connections are a powerful tool," she hums, complimentary, "but strings can only be pulled so quickly when your back is to the wall. That is where your own strength must shine." Ignoring the fact that Anju has used this reasoning on her soldiers (she is not the most creative or eloquent) hopefully it will resonate regardless.
A small, startled sound hums in the Dragoon's throat as Flora takes her hand within both of her own and begins to massage it. Gods, it feels good. And it helps that she is scarcely ever touched outside of one night stands and sparring, sparks dancing up her veins and darkening her eyes. "What sort of subtlety do you desire?" Her voice has gone a bit husky, but never let it be said that Anju is incapable of fighting down her libido to entertain the spirit of a formidable young woman. "Stealth? Magic, weaponry? Tutoring in combat?"
Her touch shifts to run her thumb up the vein she can see inside Flora's elbow, meant to be comforting as opposed to the teasing enticement of her fingertips. "Connections are a powerful tool," she hums, complimentary, "but strings can only be pulled so quickly when your back is to the wall. That is where your own strength must shine." Ignoring the fact that Anju has used this reasoning on her soldiers (she is not the most creative or eloquent) hopefully it will resonate regardless.
A small, startled sound hums in the Dragoon's throat as Flora takes her hand within both of her own and begins to massage it. Gods, it feels good. And it helps that she is scarcely ever touched outside of one night stands and sparring, sparks dancing up her veins and darkening her eyes. "What sort of subtlety do you desire?" Her voice has gone a bit husky, but never let it be said that Anju is incapable of fighting down her libido to entertain the spirit of a formidable young woman. "Stealth? Magic, weaponry? Tutoring in combat?"
