The Sentinels lovecraft

her mouth lifted in a kiss that he took willingly upon his jawline -- he smiled at the rhythmic press of her tiny mouth in a suckling motion against his cheek. strangely soothed by such, lasher was pleased and surprised by the way she moved herself, with a confidence befitting an older cub. he knew now that emaleth would be the cool logic to the emotionality of her sister, that they were well suited unto one another -- complements in a fraternal bond. "emaleth," lasher whispered. "emaleth." the darkest of his witches.