Hotaru
Maeve’s emergence from the portal has Hotaru smiling, grin only turning impish with the immediate flinch away from the cold that she admittedly had anticipated. Though she takes a moment to let her gaze drag heavy from crown to toe, admiring the windswept curls and cheeks that begin to flush rose beneath the cold, it is a matter of moments before she is pulling her attention away to flip open one of Atlas’ saddle bags. In it is another of her coats - she has plenty, considering her previous business had been entirely dedicated to the making and mending of clothes - and she pulls it free as she simultaneously swings her legs over Atlas’ withers to gracefully jump down into the snow. Offering it to the younger woman, she grins at the chattering teeth and tightly clasped arms and holds the coat open to help Maeve into it.
“Enjoy? Darling, I ruled a kingdom with weather just like this for most of my life. I am not convinced I’m not part ice myself.” Her purring tone is catlike and playful, amused as always by the reactions of those who prefer hotter climates. Hotaru is quite adaptable and had adored Torchline of course, but her heart would always be taken by the northern reaches and their inhospitable ways.
Guiding Maeve over to Atlas, she strokes the unicorn’s dark dappled hide and smiles encouragingly. “Have you ever ridden before?” Though Atlas is free of bridle or any other controlling leathers, balance alone is a necessary component. Depending on her answer, Hotaru will place her in front or back; both delightfully intimate, and quite conducive to conversation as they travel. “This way we can get you out of the cold a little faster, hm?”
“Enjoy? Darling, I ruled a kingdom with weather just like this for most of my life. I am not convinced I’m not part ice myself.” Her purring tone is catlike and playful, amused as always by the reactions of those who prefer hotter climates. Hotaru is quite adaptable and had adored Torchline of course, but her heart would always be taken by the northern reaches and their inhospitable ways.
Guiding Maeve over to Atlas, she strokes the unicorn’s dark dappled hide and smiles encouragingly. “Have you ever ridden before?” Though Atlas is free of bridle or any other controlling leathers, balance alone is a necessary component. Depending on her answer, Hotaru will place her in front or back; both delightfully intimate, and quite conducive to conversation as they travel. “This way we can get you out of the cold a little faster, hm?”
soak me in your moonshine
and fuck me on fire
and fuck me on fire
