September 10, 2024, 01:16 PM
(This post was last modified: September 10, 2024, 02:25 PM by Qiao.)
one more thing before she left.
qiao shuffled her way down the cenote's tunnels, to the cellar where the prisoner was kept. before she left, she wished to lay her eyes upon him. news of the strange contents he brought their kingdom intrigued her, and she wished to know his face.
he was not much to look at, by qiao's estimation. she examined him with glittering contempt, having heard of his untoward predilection towards little girls.
firstly, he was male --a broad, pugilistic specimen with aggressive virility practically coursing through his dark pelt. if dicks did not sour the stock, qiao would have suggested he be removed of his. as it was, they made poor contributions to a cauldron, and were often only useful for flaccid, unambitious spells.
qiao considered murmuring a spell for safiya's safety, but that was far too altruistic an ambition, and the crone still sensed the seeping edges of recovery from her last spell. better to conserve her energy.
instead, she wedged two urine-soaked hare's ears just out of reach, bound their potency with a gob of spit, and secured them with a single feather to the plinth.
then, she turned to face the prisoner, the full of her stare measuring up each of his inadequacies.
qiao shuffled her way down the cenote's tunnels, to the cellar where the prisoner was kept. before she left, she wished to lay her eyes upon him. news of the strange contents he brought their kingdom intrigued her, and she wished to know his face.
he was not much to look at, by qiao's estimation. she examined him with glittering contempt, having heard of his untoward predilection towards little girls.
firstly, he was male --a broad, pugilistic specimen with aggressive virility practically coursing through his dark pelt. if dicks did not sour the stock, qiao would have suggested he be removed of his. as it was, they made poor contributions to a cauldron, and were often only useful for flaccid, unambitious spells.
qiao considered murmuring a spell for safiya's safety, but that was far too altruistic an ambition, and the crone still sensed the seeping edges of recovery from her last spell. better to conserve her energy.
instead, she wedged two urine-soaked hare's ears just out of reach, bound their potency with a gob of spit, and secured them with a single feather to the plinth.
then, she turned to face the prisoner, the full of her stare measuring up each of his inadequacies.
![[Image: OTLS5SY.png]](https://i.imgur.com/OTLS5SY.png)
Segundo *
sometime come the wolf
This character is rated M+
This character is rated M+
227 Posts
Ooc — Lauren
Offline
September 10, 2024, 01:23 PM
soto knows immediately that this one is not here for food.
he straightens from the small holes hes made in the rocky ground. the way she passes her gaze over him is what he imagines bugs must feel like to find their abode rudely unanchored, the sun peering in with blades of prying light.
there's nothing pleasant about the lily-pad green of her gaze. and though he can't be certain given how long he's been in the dark, when he turns his head away from her he's distinctly aware of serpentine shadows writhing in his peripherals.
he knows what they call her kind back in the steppes. bruja.
he thinks of blowing her a kiss too, but the thought of intimacy with that writhing face sends his stomach squirming. to legend, he'd prepared a show -- but for qiao, soto instinctively covers his manhood, teeth baring until he feels the engulfing coldness of her shadow lift, and hears the echo of her shuffling feet slowly fade down the hall.
he straightens from the small holes hes made in the rocky ground. the way she passes her gaze over him is what he imagines bugs must feel like to find their abode rudely unanchored, the sun peering in with blades of prying light.
there's nothing pleasant about the lily-pad green of her gaze. and though he can't be certain given how long he's been in the dark, when he turns his head away from her he's distinctly aware of serpentine shadows writhing in his peripherals.
he knows what they call her kind back in the steppes. bruja.
he thinks of blowing her a kiss too, but the thought of intimacy with that writhing face sends his stomach squirming. to legend, he'd prepared a show -- but for qiao, soto instinctively covers his manhood, teeth baring until he feels the engulfing coldness of her shadow lift, and hears the echo of her shuffling feet slowly fade down the hall.
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