[SE] it's the heat that drives the light

I can't relate to  d e s p e r a t i o n

That morning had seen the priestess leaving the Temple and heading toward the Last Whisper on dark-coloured wings. She'd gone to try and negotiate for some supplies in order to make candles herself, or at least to learn the process. After several blowjobs, two rooms swept, a curtain repaired, and some goats milked, Charlie had a bag full of wicks, some oil, and a recipe for making wax herself. It seemed silly to keep buying candles, burning them, and having to buy more when she could just make them herself, right?

Unable to fly with her purchases in hand as a crow—and given no one knew she could suddenly become a dragon that seemed a touch problematic—Charlie had begun the walk home. Singing under her breath, the priestess's song stopped abruptly as she caught sight of a rather familiar rakish figure strolling her way.

"Dantaaaaaa?" Charlie's voice is musical and bright as she appears suddenly in the road before him. Literally; ever since having gained her dart! ability, the little blonde has been using it for all sorts of practical and wicked purposes. Flicking her tail back and forth she grins up at him. "What're you doing here?"

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