Days feel longer without you

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

There's no less desire in him now than the first time, but this is something more controlled and measured, meaning to savor and relish instead of simply consume as before. What had previously felt like a surprised rush of startling discovery, this feels like returning to something he already knows he'll cherish, and now he means to notice the details.

Finding what makes her arch in pleasure is its own reward here, and he's eager to map them out now, even as his own shivers of arousal spark and skip beneath his skin at each passing glance or trailing touch she offers. Her voice snaps against the idea of restraint, especially as it comes with the removal of his last bit of clothing. "And I wanna make you melt," he offers back, gaze flickering molten against her, voice shuddering into something broken as her fingers seize and stroke along his erection. His hips tilt of their own accord, chasing the friction and each tantalizing sensation, requiring him to grit his teeth against the easy thought of coming undone in her hands.

The lead of her own grip along his palm offers him a nice distraction, and he follows her guidance without question. Stepping further in again, letting skin slide against skin in areas he hadn't even thought could matter until her touch brushes there with heat, he gladly braces himself in the crook of her body and the frame of stone. Between her thighs his hand slips, two fingers roll past her clit and curl into the wet heat that awaits further down. It's only his hand, but he feels the echo of it throb through his entire body, cock twitching at the urge to bury itself there instead. He smothers the thought in the press of their lips, stealing her breath as his hand plunges deeper, finding a pace of sinking in and pulling back, pursuing each tremble of moan he can pull from her. His thumb presses in at some point, offering pressure and small circles against her clit.

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

His response initiated a feral grin across her lips, enough boldness, enough daring, to provoke and needle, entice and lure. Most of her mind dearly hoped he’d make due on the conviction, body already quite willing to succumb to melting and pleasure, and in turn, do the same to him. Another challenge contorted its way through her mind, a gloating sort of measure that centered in her hooded gaze the moment he shuddered beneath her touch – wondering who could come undone faster, if she could make him unraveled in her hands. She rather enjoyed watching his facial expressions change, his hips tilting towards her – so she started again, a light touch, before a streamlined caress, wanting to hear him, see him –

It might not have mattered then though, because then there was more skin on skin and she could feel every stroke of their flesh with a seditious elation; pursuing the rush of pleasure as her breasts brushed against his chest or he leaned into her. The moment his fingers slid down into her core, her legs instinctively spread, widening to give and grant as the indulgence filled her – finding the desire making her tip forward, trying to take him in, head leaning on massive shoulders while mewls and echoes of encouragement rasped through hisses. “Yes,” lingered on agreement as her body ached and shuddered, simplicity in the persuasion and urgency, granted pants and pleas for more that didn’t quite make it out into syllables or strains. She’d forgotten her whole game within half an instant, and even more so as his lips found hers and stole the moan from her throat, in the rush to find and take and not yet yield.

salvation doesn't look like light

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

The display of such eager want is its own rush of heat that spirals through him. Gods, just the sight of her knees spreading apart is enough to make him feral. Add to that the quivers of her body around his hands, the slick feel of her so ready, and the sound of her agreement, and he's practically able to chew on the desire brewing between them like it's hardtack he can bite out of the air itself. "I can't resist you," he murmurs into her mouth before withdrawing his hands and gripping either side of her waist instead.

He can't keep himself at bay any longer, and in short order angles himself and plunges his cock into her depths in one long, sure thrust that leaves him bowing over into her shoulder with a groan. "Fuck, Mel," he moans out with a drag of his lips across her neck, fingers tightening against her hips. He withdraws, slow and steady before sinking in again, savoring the gliding friction and the heat that encases him. He sets a slow pace, trying to savor her still, even if it's proving a challenge now.

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

Seemed it’d been for the best to give up the ghost of the game in her head; neither of them were going to wait for the other’s first heady rush. Patience was neither of their fortes, and Melita wasn’t about to pretend that she’d adapted to it now. “Don’t bother then-,” was halfway out of her mouth, coy and amused, when he did exactly that. The command was gone on a gasp, sinking deep into her ribcage and vanishing on the plunges of pleasure – a stark outcry of a moan flickering through her thereafter as he reached and immersed himself. It took her an instant to adjust, for her body to sink against the stone, back to arc, the race and flush across her skin turning into naught but a mewling desire given and granted on all their zealous inclinations. Her legs went around his hips and stayed there, as if taut and caught and tethered, helping to anchor or sink him further on each plunge.

Ravenous and greedy and wanton and mercenary, she tried to follow his rhythm, rushed below the surface and gasping as each surge of decadence served into a pant, a groan, flickering and flooding over his ears. Her hands wove their away along his shoulders, then behind his neck, hanging on; indifferent on who led this destination, given they were intending to make the same sojourn. Reaching forward, she tucked herself into his neck, panted against his nape, his chest, serenaded with each striking chord and keen. Eyed closed, just feeling, just taking, just letting them have these instances of stark, naked desire; letting it fold over time and time again into the hollows of her core, twining into her mind like a buzz, like a pull, like a snare she had to follow and chase and have. That it was him, and only him, that she’d unfurl for and permit to have her in the same way. “Just like that,” she started with a pitch, a whisper, but when he slowed, she snagged and angled her hips again in a swifter denizen, trying to implement a mode to drive them onwards, faster, quicker.

salvation doesn't look like light

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

The wreathe of her legs around him is like an angel's halo, utterly divine in feeling, though the added heat speaks to its more devilish nature. The insistence in the hold drives into him with a firmer absolution of her need, a gravitational pull between her thighs that yanks him in, limbs locking that distance in place. She doesn't just end there though, she claws for him with every bit of her that remains. Her need demands erasure of distance, and her hunger beckons him to consider what room he's permitting even inside of her. It's a maddening call that hums in his veins not unlike the battlelust that rises in the thick of it. This has its own pounding, roaring pulse behind his ears, one guided with every sound he stokes from her, burning beneath every touch that feeds him further into a more wild abandon.

She feels too spectacular to keep at bay, and with every sinking strike he's losing reason on why he's holding anything back, on how patience equates to improvement. The keening of her desire for more is a siren song he's no desire to shake off, and her praise lands like a kiss planted in his soul, blooming golden and whole through him. In response his hands slide down her, gathering her thighs and lifting them higher, tipping her ass up and off the rock. This new angle immediately deepens his reach, and with a shudder of satisfaction, his pace increases to continually chase that end. The slap of their bodies drowns out the rest of the forest noise now, their lewd song all the can hear between the rush of breaths as his mouth continues to trail hot and senseless against her, capturing her lips briefly in-between as he seals passion and adoration in tandem to her mouth. "Melllll," he warns on a rumbling exhale, ragged with want.

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

Oh, she was thoroughly lost by then, body demanding the quick pulse of his movement and her thriving on the fringes. Just teetering on the edge and riding along each pleasurable undulation, she was a breathless, heedless entity, coaxing him onward as she followed the motions. She moaned into his skin to perilously drive him onward, her hands snaring at the quick pulse of his neck or the muscular brawn of his shoulders; a place to brace and clutch while the rest of her body kept him right there; mind blissfully snagging at any opportunity to savor him properly. She’d long since forgotten any essence of some game she’d conjured in her own mind – for it scarcely mattered now – need and desire commanded over anything else.

So she didn’t expect the sudden change of angles; a quick gasp unfurling from her as she was suddenly tipped upwards and off the rock – the sultry sweep sending a wave of confusion before the reason became quite clear. “Wait – holy shit-,” blurted out of her – but then he was filling her so intensely and deeply that anything coherent was left in the air. Her keening moan and the wave of their brethren thereafter further encouraged, and she was already steeling her thighs back around him at this new slant; chasing and riding and wanting nothing more than those highs and satisfaction again and again.

His mouth was on her once more too and she felt engulfed; surrounded and pervaded by the rhythm and march of their forms, intertwining and salacious, her frame a sinuous arc and lilt to each shuddering breadth of gratification. She called his name and he swallowed it down with his lips, back arching, the blooming feeling rising through her throat. “I think-,” came as both a warning and an argument – for there truly was no thought – but that she was clambering on the boundaries, gripping him thoroughly, pulling him downward and onward with her.

salvation doesn't look like light

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

The sudden gasp that echoes throughout her entire body when he seizes her into a better line for pleasure is something that he feels immediately. She tightens around him in every possible way, that jolt of confusion and fear rippling like he's skipped a stone over a pond and each arc of water is another part of her reshaping around the change, and in so doing, lapping up against him. The sensation rolls down his spine with a delightful shiver, the brief flare subsiding to her settling and granting even greater depths that he's eager to claim, especially as the hesitation fades and her agreement surges forth again.

"Fuck," he grinds out between breaths, the effort to string together actual thought, much less put it to voice, a massive undertaking as he feels the seams of him coming undone with every strike against her. "You feel like—you feel—incredible." His frenzy increases, spurred on by the impossible feeling of her fully taking him. He can feel the edge nearing between the two of them, and he abandons all thought of managing to kiss her now. Instead his forehead tips against her, jaw tightening as his hips thrust into her with as much force as he can muster to grant every spark of skin between them. His breath comes ragged with the effort, sides slick with a layer of sweat and heat.

He bears down on the feeling of splintering apart though, riding the curl of the spiderwebbing fracture of his composure. He wants to feel her curl up beneath him in the throes of utter ecstasy, knowing the moment he gives in, he'll be so swept away by the crash that he'll be useless for a while yet. Above all else, it's got to be her first. His grip tightens around her sides, thumbs digging into the curve of her ass and holding her that much firmer against the recoil of his thrust. "Melt, Mel," he commands, though it's a disguise of mercy.

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

Pervaded by nothing more than feeling, her mind remained naught, save for an opus of pleasure and impending satisfaction. Between the pathways of stone and his body, she was hooked and tethered and writhing in the abyss, each undulation a momentary glimpse towards the edges and fringes. It built and billowed through her in waves, riding upon him or her moans or every little buzz akin to her skin. Leaning back into the column of rock, the cool earth scarcely brought a chill; too engulfed and immersed and stubborn, smirking, grinning, at his frenzy, at his compliments, tightening her grasp and grip on him, following each motion, having no words but his name on her lips and the capricious whims of whatever shape her entity and essence gave. She couldn’t even come up with what he felt like; everything, maybe, like she’d succumbed to shelter and warmth and all the delicacies she couldn’t recall, didn’t know until she’d savored him again and again. Maybe that was part of it too – new little storms and tempests to divulge, willing and wanting and wanton to explore all of them.

At his command she almost obstinately refused – either on principle or mulishness – but no sooner had his forehead touched her shoulder, slick with sweat, or one more thrust, her toes curled, back bowed, everything arced in sinuous, heart-rendering exultation. The indulgence echoed in her outcry and breathless hymns, a finishing rhythm as she moaned and groaned her finality, the conclusion a bright array across her eyes and over her flesh, shuddering, quivering, trembling with the sensations. “Gods,” she uttered, mouth lowered to edge over his ear, teeth poised to bite over the edge of his skin; half-tempted to simply fall back against the outcropping in a drenched and gasping heap. But she’d also been hoping to pull him over the borders and boundaries with her, until they were both on the verge and leaping. “Now you,” she toyed instead, one hand grasping the back of his neck, fingers slinking along the wet hair, and the other sliding downwards, towards his abdomen, hoping to impart more touches, more caresses, more strokes to ignite and alight him too.

salvation doesn't look like light

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

The sound of her coming apart does him in thoroughly. The whisper of her body sliding across the stone to arc beneath him, the breathless plea of his name like a tether she's yanking, tearing him clean out of himself, it all shatters his control. Her body clamps down in rippling pulses, warmth and tension dragging him toward the edge he’s been teetering across, fighting to deliver her the release she deserved in full.

She has it now though, and the last of his restraint breaks away. A hoarse, broken sound tears loose from his chest as she rounds the turn upon him. It might have been a laugh if it weren’t so full of surrender. "Mel," he groans, voice gone raw with the pressure of the want finally whipping free, the sound vibrating against her skin. Flame snarls through the surrounding canopy as his eyes squeeze shut, his grip locking her firmly in place as they anchor himself to the only thing that feels real while the world narrows to heat and her. His head drops fully, brow pressing into her shoulder as if bracing against the force of it, every muscle drawing taut as pleasure crests and crashes. His hips stutter once, twice, and then the building pressure snaps in a hot, sudden rush.

He's holding onto her as much as holding her through her own finishing tide, the pair of them locked like falling eagles, but thankfully they're already ground level. The slide of her hands is like more fuel to the fire, quivering the skin she touches until at last he sags into her as the aftermath steals the strength from his limbs. He stays there, forehead rolling against her, breath uneven and warm between them. For a long moment,he just breathes her in, completely spent and quietly awed at what they can make together when they try. Sweat slicks his skin and though his pulse is slowing now, his heart still hammers loud enough he’s sure she can feel it. When he finally shifts, it’s slow and reverent, his hands easing their grip to slide up her sides and try to rediscover the world, starting with the shape of her. “Gods,” he exhales hoarsely, a quiet laugh humming beneath the word with all the disbelief of how good this feels. How good she feels. “You are, simply stunning.” His mouth brushes her temple then, keeping contact and the steadying mix of their bodies together.

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

Instigating and provoking, though this time for pleasure rather than trickery or deceit, she found herself quite content in watching him unravel. While she’d seen him unfurl many times before, it’d been in other situations, like anger or entertainment; not undone in satisfaction – and she grinned, thinking how many times she’d like to witness him fall apart in indulgence. Sweat-laden muscles and naked and laden for the taking, that would be an aspect of Iskra she’d keep all to herself – riding along the groans and aftershocks with him – savoring, snagging, snaring, held there until the pulses shattered and then it was just them.

Though, she did catch a glimpse of fire in the canopy, but when she blinked again, it seemed to be gone. The confusion rambled along her mind rather than bringing it to attention; perhaps a side effect of consuming one another, unaware of the other instances. She’d been a little distracted.

His breath lingered across her skin, and she inhaled lowly, slowing the jackhammering of her heart until it seemed to reach a pleasant hum, fingers lightly tracing his back. She was partially inclined to grab his ass just to see what he’d do, but settled for winding her hands along his neck, then his face, supporting around his jaw. On his exhale, her eyes widened, then she snorted; still very unsteady when it came to expressing things outwardly (that weren’t, at least, outright and hostile rage) – so she settled for a preening, only a light blush flickering across her cheeks, rolling a little to the side so she could be captured and captivated in just the right light. “Mm, you should see yourself,” she granted in exchange – eyes still hooded and drawing him in, purposefully raking her glance up and down. Thereafter, her mouth glimpsed along his ear, reaching for more contact, for things she didn’t know she could constantly crave. “That was really good,” as praise; to invoke that she’d enjoyed it, hoped he had too, trying to piece the particles of what they were doing together.

But instead of asking, because she wasn’t really sure how to phrase the inquiry, she gave them a moment or two to bask; lithe afterglows. The notion of their time in the jungle crept in though, and she gave a quick laugh. “Do you want to wash up somewhere? There’s bound to be a stream nearby.”

salvation doesn't look like light

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

He begins to lean into the rock alongside her, limbs suddenly mimicking al dente noodles. He eases in with a groan and a sigh, the ring of her arms around his neck and the slow trail of them along his face the only thing that keeps him from nestling in completely, content as a cat in a sunbeam to curl up here and nap with her. Probably for the best he doesn't, his neck would have words with him upon waking, he's certain. It's easy enough to find a slice of bliss at her side though, even on the uneven surface of stone.

He gives a low, pleased sound as her touch trails into breath dancing against his ear. His eyes fall half-lidded and unfocused, the haze of her in the dappled sunlight of the canopy drifting in like a dream. Her praise lands like sunlight after a snowstorm, so welcome that he can't help but turn his face towards it, lopsided grin stretching out languid and loose without him fully meaning it to. The response of her body is all the affirmation he should need that he'd done something right, but somehow the words thrum against him, echoing into parts of him that soften at the sound. Something shy and pleased flickers into his expression as her gaze drags over him in the wake of appraisal, and if he flexes slightly, he'll never admit it. He huffs a breath that might almost be a laugh, one shoulder lifting faintly beneath her hands.

“The best,” he murmurs in agreement of that experience, voice still rough around the edges, but warmed through now. His hand slides against her again easily, fingertips skimming along her arm, slow and idle, tracing the line of muscle and skin. There’s no rush left, just the gentle want of staying connected, of letting the quiet stretch between them without needing to fill it. He breathes her in, steady and unhurried, happy to exist here with her for as long as they can.

When she mentions the stream, he stirs from the edge of slumber, humming thoughtfully. His eyes flick towards the swaths of foliage around them before returning to her with an easy nod. “Yeah, that's a good plan.” His hand had since fallen still against her, but now drifts back to life down the slope of her, a quiet farewell before he pulls it in to situate himself upright.

A faint smile tugs at his mouth as he glances around again. The canopy above and the earth beneath them feels suddenly…right. “Glad we ended up out here,” he murmurs before hoisting himself to his feet. “City wouldn’t’ve given us this. Not this nice anyway.” Some hotel room perhaps, or if they really got lost, an alley or a restaurant bathroom, but he can't imagine such miserable places compared to this. "I think there was a stream back the way we came," he offers, and worst case scenario, the Firecracker had some creature comforts they could indulge in.

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

Beholding him now, in all his gilded light, something swayed in her chest, made her think of eternities rather than simply the present. A different pitch in her ribcage, suddenly swaying in the arc of her soul that had always been a little defiant; and she swallowed the emotions before they made it difficult to breathe, her lip quiver, or tears threatening in the corner of her eyes. Contentment and love and happiness shouldn’t have been so bewildering, but it stunned her much the same, and giving names to it while she glanced at his face and contemplated a life that wasn’t all devastation, heartache, and survival mystified into her own tangled knot. A web she was more willing to unravel – if she gave herself, and him, an actual chance, instead of running and prolonging and avoiding. Far too used to destroying and discarding, rather than building anything, the concept entirely new, fresh, and foreign, her hands slid along his face again, dragging him closer so her mouth could encompass his in a long, slow, lingering kiss; forging something there first.

Conversations with Kaisel came to mind, and when she pulled away, she peered through the lopsided grin and the ridiculous flex of his muscles (here she couldn’t help but laugh, one hand weakly smacking against his chest), she leaned back into the stone, surveyed him from that solid, staunch counterpart. With a wry grin meant to mask any apprehension, she tilted her head, hands going towards the crown still woven through her crimson tresses, ensuring it was back in place, while they peeled away from the rock.

Ignoring the sudden protest in her frame, stiff and unyielding, she let the prospect of plans flicker around, letting it gather in jocular facets before she advanced. “I can send Sila to scout one out…,” and then on second thought, her brows furrowed, glancing around to see where the companions had gone. Both Fangorn and Sila popped their heads up from the remains of the picnic, and she snorted, before casting them along – wings unfurling and vampire gourd bobbing, granting her body several stretches and then beginning to look for her discarded and flung clothing. Snagging at her dress from a nearby fern, she tossed a glance his way. “See, I was right all along,” with a wink for good measure; Stormbreak forever giving her a feeling of old, withered faces and ancient ideals. “Though, the Celestine is really pretty.” As if the floating isle had one redeeming quality. She could imagine them taking dinner there and looking at animals and then meandering their way elsewhere; but she gave a shrug and maneuvered on, discovering her underwear right below the rock outcropping, and chucking his pants his way.

Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, as if going to war (which she’d proclaim, was much easier) instead of taking the smallest gods damned step, she shook out her clothes, trying to give attention to the cheesecake and berry stains on the ruffles instead of on whether he’d say no. “I was thinking – do you want to do like…a family dinner with my uncle or something?”

salvation doesn't look like light

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

The moment he finds himself suddenly captured in her rich kiss is one that sends a startled wave rolling through him. It has him hesitate, just for a moment, before he willingly presses into her claim. Her affection is often hard won, and he's certain he'd emptied most of her reservoirs now, expecting some number of teases or returns to games they're more familiar with. His own awe of her is the only instinct guiding him at all right now, otherwise he's just as happy to fumble along behind the familiar cutouts of chasing her and pretending that the tap of tag is enough, so long as he can still steal her away for moments like this one. So when she just offers this affectionate embrace freely, he takes it with no concealment for his greed of her.

The usual comes soon enough, her hands rebuking the flash of his muscles, and conversation threading through the peace of breath and body heat as they slide to their feet and try to remember normalcy after briefly brushing up against paradise. The comedic pause and slow turn of their attention towards the pilfered remains of their feast reveals an unsurprising host of culprits. Like children, animals that have grown quiet for too long are usually up to no good. They used the distraction to stuff themselves, and once caught and sent to task, Iskra can't keep back the loud laugh at the chaotic scramble. Goose is on the heels of Fangorn, bushy tail waving behind him as he disappears through the brush. "Well, glad everyone enjoyed the meal," he grins.

Shaking his head with the most mild exasperation at her confident assertion, he mutters, "yeah yeah. Well, I listened to you, didn't I?" Brownie points are still points and he'd like to collect them all. As for the Celestine, he can agree with that. "Oh yeah, I've seen it once," he says around a pant leg as his grip fails to capture the full length of his bottoms, hoisting them up to keep them free of more dirt than they need. "Didn't really tour it in depth, just peeked in while waiting on a skyship there." She certainly gets around more than him with her deeper set of connections, personal skyship, and demigod duties, but Iskra travels from Halo fairly often on business.

Wadding up his pants, not finding much point in wearing them before he's washed, he ambles around to gather up the rest of his clothing. His shirt is tugged free of a nearby bush, and his briefs he swipes from under the picnic blanket. He glances up at one point, catching briefly on the way she's intently working on her stained dress, worried for a moment that he's helped ruin one of her favorites. About to offer that he could get it cleaned back in town somewhere, he's taken aback by the invitation she sets down instead. For a moment all he can do is blink, half-stooped in picking up spilled food containers. "A family dinner?" He hasn't had one of those in...decades. The excitement for it dawns slowly inside him, cautious now of something that's no longer well known. It does spread though, the eagerness to walk back to old paths, well new because they'd beside her, but things he'd long since given up on. "Y-yeah!" he says after what surely feels like too long, his words scattered after being blown back by shock. "I'd love that, actually."

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

Some part of her wished she hadn’t noticed the hesitation, that slight surprise before he took her too. It would’ve made her life easier; to be wholly ignorant and unaware, but also horrendously unfair, and she would have to wrestle, toy, claw at the latter rustling against her bones. To be better or offer herself more or something that wouldn’t equate to him being stunned by her affection – because that was sad and pathetic too. That she’d offered so little. That she’d rather be chased or initiate boundless chaos than give. Which, she supposed, had been true enough for so long in every other circumstance that it was far more natural to run and leap and bound and twist a knife into the world than grant intimacy, trust, or warmth. She felt half-inclined to apologize, but didn’t know how to word it.

Pushing the irritation down into her ribs, to fuse with every other molten thing clinging to her sides, her attention flickered over to where the companions had gone, shaking her head as the brush and leaves moved, skimming, tracing to where her bra had been tossed and snorting. “First time for everything I suppose,” she teased, sticking her tongue out on instinct and familiarity, gaze on him for a little longer than necessary, hiding a sigh in between her ribs. “I didn’t see much of it either. Just that it was different from everywhere else. I’d go back there,” arching her brow, then smiling as she tossed her dress over her shoulder and used the picnic blanket as some sort of modesty robe; aware it was silly after what they’d just done, but feeling a bit more regal and refined with it on instead of just exposed and stupid internally. “How did the tower building thing go?” Conversation, and being insatiably nosey, to hide herself within while she tended to whatever ignorance she’d wrought again.

Then she was snagging at food containers too, uncertain what his response would be to her inquiry, glancing upward once his shock and bewilderment echoed again (gods that was a long and unbearable pause). Presuming she was fucking up everywhere in the vicinity of a couple of moments, she clenched her jaw, brain striving to figure out how to warp all that back. To witness his surprise turn into excitement, rather than outright refusal, was a welcome reprieve, and she unfurled a long breath, some penchant of relief. Staggering around what they’d been trying to create, especially when it was built on other foundations, left her dumbfounded at best; but her features altered into a grin instead of all the dread haunting her mind. “Okay, good. I’ll ask him later.”

She could hear Sila granting a low hoot and signal, over the other grumbles or barks, and she scooped up as much as she could in her arms – the call to a race already brimming across her tongue, trying to restore order. “Last one there has to wash all the dishes!”

salvation doesn't look like light