Maea
And I only needed one more touch
Another taste of devouring rush
Another taste of devouring rush
The blue-striped tigress arched her neck into the touch and pressed her brosd head against Isla's, grateful to be noticed in her struggle. The storm was entirely internal, tangled threads of worry, hunger and unease that had nowhere to go and seemingly no resolution. Trying to convey any of it only resulted in a long mournful sigh as she met Isla's gaze, something wounded and fearful simmering deep in the golden irises.
Really, it was the kind of subject she should have brought up before they started hunting. Except Maea had no more clue how to express it in words than she did now, and so shifting back to talk felt pointless. The scent of the deer tore at her nose, causing the hunger to mount little by little - and with it the anxiety rose in turn, causing an acrid scent of fear to mingle with her own scent.
Maea didn't know what to do. Kneading the earth as tremors worked through the tense body, tearing up the top surf with her claws with the tail snapping furiously, her body and mind kept screaming at her to let go and give in to the red-tinted urges, the lustful needs, the violent tendencies that felt so very much like insanity. Like hanging on at the edge of a cliff by her finger tips, terrified of falling, she knew she wasn't supposed to resist like this, and knew it needed to happen – but she was so gods damned afraid.
I don't want to lose myself flashed through her mind, over and over again, like a mantra.
Really, it was the kind of subject she should have brought up before they started hunting. Except Maea had no more clue how to express it in words than she did now, and so shifting back to talk felt pointless. The scent of the deer tore at her nose, causing the hunger to mount little by little - and with it the anxiety rose in turn, causing an acrid scent of fear to mingle with her own scent.
Maea didn't know what to do. Kneading the earth as tremors worked through the tense body, tearing up the top surf with her claws with the tail snapping furiously, her body and mind kept screaming at her to let go and give in to the red-tinted urges, the lustful needs, the violent tendencies that felt so very much like insanity. Like hanging on at the edge of a cliff by her finger tips, terrified of falling, she knew she wasn't supposed to resist like this, and knew it needed to happen – but she was so gods damned afraid.
I don't want to lose myself flashed through her mind, over and over again, like a mantra.
But the room was so quiet
Whose side am I on?
Whose side am I on?
