with each love i cut loose i was never the same
Flora's grin turns positively brazen, her gaze flickering up through her lashes as if she’s pulling a memory like silk from a drawer. "Mmm, well," she purrs, mischief curling through her voice like smoke, "the two of you sure showed me a good time, one I'd happily repeat. Honestly, whatever works for your schedules.”" The wink that follows is pure sin, unapologetic and golden in the fading temple light.
As Danta slips back into place beside her, Flora leans into him with casual intimacy, her shoulder brushing against his cardigan with every other step. Her brows lift as he peers at her, and she gives a nonchalant shrug. "No idea what a feirw is—sounds like a firecracker with hooves—but if it’s got antlers and testosterone, I wouldn’t be surprised." She pauses, thoughtful. "Asta has always been a bit murdery. And territorial. And, you know, hotter-than-he-knows-it in that whole possessive ‘mine’ way he gets with you, soooo maybe the shift just turned the volume up."
The idea of it happening every year earns a quiet, amused hum from her, followed by a knowing look. "As far as I know, Ronin still does it." She gestures vaguely, as if conjuring up moss and pheromones. "Remi sort of makes it into a whole special-occasion thing for them. Like a seasonal festival, but with fewer clothes, going for runs and more antlers." Her tone is breezy, but the smirk she tosses Danta is anything but innocent. "Maybe you boys just need to lean into it. Get a crown of branches. Make up some rituals. Frolic beneath the moon." Then again, that seemed par for the course when it came to being an Ancient anyhow, so maybe all those things were already on their to-do lists.
As Danta slips back into place beside her, Flora leans into him with casual intimacy, her shoulder brushing against his cardigan with every other step. Her brows lift as he peers at her, and she gives a nonchalant shrug. "No idea what a feirw is—sounds like a firecracker with hooves—but if it’s got antlers and testosterone, I wouldn’t be surprised." She pauses, thoughtful. "Asta has always been a bit murdery. And territorial. And, you know, hotter-than-he-knows-it in that whole possessive ‘mine’ way he gets with you, soooo maybe the shift just turned the volume up."
The idea of it happening every year earns a quiet, amused hum from her, followed by a knowing look. "As far as I know, Ronin still does it." She gestures vaguely, as if conjuring up moss and pheromones. "Remi sort of makes it into a whole special-occasion thing for them. Like a seasonal festival, but with fewer clothes, going for runs and more antlers." Her tone is breezy, but the smirk she tosses Danta is anything but innocent. "Maybe you boys just need to lean into it. Get a crown of branches. Make up some rituals. Frolic beneath the moon." Then again, that seemed par for the course when it came to being an Ancient anyhow, so maybe all those things were already on their to-do lists.
