dionysus, min himmel.
she sighed at him with whimsy in her tone.
a slow approach towards him, her tail swayed with the bliss of her emotions. there would be no perfume of the season on her yet but she knew it would be soon. safer to dalliance with him before then, uncertain if she would after.
hvis du bare kunne mitt morsmål.
she teased in her foreign tongue, perhaps inclined to mystify him this go around and make any sort of chase more mental than physical.
she laughed, light and free despite the sorrow of sapphique she had been greeted with on the coast. he was such a reprieve in these willows even if he did not know it.
so she welcomed him close, leaned her narrow face into his chest as he brushed her nape. her fur tangled with the debris of saltwater and harsh sea air. he smelled lively and alluring. how different they were but she knew how well they fit together.
will you stay for the night in the willows?
she hummed as she tilted her head back to cast a sidelong gaze at him. i wish to hear your stories and tame you before we…tangle.
some coy humor in her voice.
she wished to momentarily pretend he was a lifelong love before they drifted once more. tend to his unkempt coat, feed his traveling belly and tell him her own stories of mountains far from here where everyone spoke her tongue.
it was make believe moments like this that kept her wild.
a bronco is better than beach.
she laughed softly, as she sought to brush further into him. tangle their fur and scents together. mar the scent of saltwater and grief with his mountain musk. she did not mind if he wore the perfume of other woman, if he smelled of conquests beyond her. he was free — wild.
her bronco.
she sought to lure him away from their current spot, certain she had seen an old den somewhere around here...perhaps they could breathe new life into it.
she would kiss him in return, the kind of affection shared with a well loved partner. they were no such thing but it warmed her all the same. filled in the crevices of her heart and washed away the grief she had absorbed from the sea mother.
she thought of the mother. she thought of the lost daughter. she thought of the unhelpful men at sea.
don't.
she would not ruin this good thing, this good moment.
the den would need to be slightly dug out from a snow drift, covered from lack of use, but it would be easier work than it looked. not to mention she was all but happy to flex muscle and work under the watchful gaze of her dionysus.