'I do so love when you finish.' The deity purrs behind Sunjata. Aware that the Flood has no blindfold with which to block his gaze, Frey remains behind him, not at all minding the view. Something long and coiled stretches forward, not unlike the tongue of a butterfly but on a much more massive scale, to pluck one of the nectarines from Sunjata's basket. "So very sweet this time of year." They say, followed by very suggestive slorping sounds as they devour the fruit.
"Tell me...what was it like hearing about the desires of others?" Frey would much rather hear the words from Sunjata's lips than strain to read his scribbles in his notebook. Besides, the view of the Flood on his knees from the back was not a sight they were keen to waste.
"Tell me...what was it like hearing about the desires of others?" Frey would much rather hear the words from Sunjata's lips than strain to read his scribbles in his notebook. Besides, the view of the Flood on his knees from the back was not a sight they were keen to waste.
