Into the mountains he followed the sunbloom girl, the daywalker
@Minuet. Ptolemy kept to the shadows, tracking when she moved, watching when she stopped to rest. The islands burned in his thoughts always.
He would return.
But not without her.
So he followed her into the cave, skirting the dim perimeter, ever watchful. He lifted his muzzle to taste the air. No others; no disturbances, no distractions. Still he hesitated. His gaze followed her movements, filled with fascination.
She was beautiful; perfect, if any creature ever was. He wanted to ruin her.
He watched her fold like tumbling golden silk, like some pretty piece of lace discarded with the scraps. The sorrow clung to her; it was unbecoming, Ptolemy decided, and detached himself from the shadows. Wordlessly he circled, closer now, a vulture descending only when the rest of the world had fallen away and forgotten what festered in the dark.
In a swift motion he surrounded her; curving around her shoulders, muzzle trailing through her scruff and resting beside her ear. Minuet,
He murmured in low velvet tones, pressing against her, incited by the delicate warmth of her. She smelled of sunlight and summer. She felt like redemption.
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Powerplay with permission!
At once she came to life; his pulse surged with it. He caught her paw forcefully with his own, kissed it, pressed it into the earth.
Shh,
He soothed, nose tracing a path under her chin even as he sought to press her other paw to the ground. Such a delicate thing, his daywalker.
He inhaled lightly, intoxicated by the scent of her.
You belong in the sunlight,
Ptolemy whispered to her, reverent.
But you'll never see it again.
He released one of her paws and wrapped his own around her muzzle, tightly over her nose and her mouth. There he would keep it until her struggling ceased; until she was soft and pliant and
his.