Pierce
It’s quite possible that he does feel like granite beneath her touch, hardened muscle and taught skin – this form at odds with the rippling power that settled beneath his exterior. He runs hot, as she’d noticed when he’d brushed against her however briefly it had been, before he guides her toward Rae’s Finger’s, new entrances opening from the meteor crash.
And perhaps it’s an amount of cockiness, that roguish grin offered before he melts into the backdrop of nothing, amused within the shadows to find her own fanged grin back, watching as she approaches. He continues to step backwards, allowing her eyes to adjust, finding his aptly piercing – even if they still don’t know each other’s names, Pierce finds he doesn’t particularly care about the small talk when she looks at him the way that she does.
Like she wants to find out what makes him tick. ”Because they aren’t just any dilapidated caves, my dear.” Comes the throaty, deep purr, ensuring that she remains close as he guides her, even if he doesn’t have to exactly look where he’s going. The sections drift deeper, the echoing sound of water lapping against rocks are the only other sound aside from their breathing and the flickering crackle of a torch or two in the distance.
He stops rather abruptly, like a bloodhound who just got a better trail, stopping hard enough that she might run into him – but Pierce pays it little mind as he reaches for her – palm almost hot (though as an Ancient she likely wouldn’t mind) – to tug her into an offshoot where boxes half opened, broken, and completely sealed sat waiting for the taking. There’s one torch here, lighting up the space enough to spy the gilded glimmer of weaponry and shiny gold and silver trinkets.
Pierce releases her the second they’re within the confines of it, stepping aside to press his back against the sharp wall, content to watch her peruse the treasure, should she like to.
And perhaps it’s an amount of cockiness, that roguish grin offered before he melts into the backdrop of nothing, amused within the shadows to find her own fanged grin back, watching as she approaches. He continues to step backwards, allowing her eyes to adjust, finding his aptly piercing – even if they still don’t know each other’s names, Pierce finds he doesn’t particularly care about the small talk when she looks at him the way that she does.
Like she wants to find out what makes him tick. ”Because they aren’t just any dilapidated caves, my dear.” Comes the throaty, deep purr, ensuring that she remains close as he guides her, even if he doesn’t have to exactly look where he’s going. The sections drift deeper, the echoing sound of water lapping against rocks are the only other sound aside from their breathing and the flickering crackle of a torch or two in the distance.
He stops rather abruptly, like a bloodhound who just got a better trail, stopping hard enough that she might run into him – but Pierce pays it little mind as he reaches for her – palm almost hot (though as an Ancient she likely wouldn’t mind) – to tug her into an offshoot where boxes half opened, broken, and completely sealed sat waiting for the taking. There’s one torch here, lighting up the space enough to spy the gilded glimmer of weaponry and shiny gold and silver trinkets.
Pierce releases her the second they’re within the confines of it, stepping aside to press his back against the sharp wall, content to watch her peruse the treasure, should she like to.
