"Dahlia," she greets him, her voice an empty breath around the new name, and she draws him up to stand as if he's made of nothing, rather than the hulking form he now arguably takes. Only a moment later finds her crushed against him, and she melts into the embrace like a liquid, as if she might fill all the spaces made new by this world and his body. "You have certainly been missed," she whispers, peeling herself away only to look him up and down properly.
Dorian's appraisal would be - will be - much more critical, but for Dahlia the mere sight of kindred souls made flesh is enough. Even so, she can't help but notice the obvious. "You will be intimidating," she says, the sweetness in her tone at odds with the implications. "You will be so difficult to topple." And gods, she sounds giddy with it. "What will you call yourself?"
Dorian's appraisal would be - will be - much more critical, but for Dahlia the mere sight of kindred souls made flesh is enough. Even so, she can't help but notice the obvious. "You will be intimidating," she says, the sweetness in her tone at odds with the implications. "You will be so difficult to topple." And gods, she sounds giddy with it. "What will you call yourself?"
let me put my lips to something
let me wrap my teeth around the world
let me wrap my teeth around the world
