Wheeling Gull Isle OTHELLO, I WILL AVENGE YOU

Every syllable had Wednesday hanging as no word could have ever done to her in the past. It was typical for her to despise that others spoke at all. A waste of breath and their oxygen. But Erzsébet? She would ask the woman to recite epic poetry, and be happy to hear it. Wednesday noted the cover of trees ahead, and thought little of it up until the point the exotic woman broke from her side and turned to face her.

Wednesday stopped, tail lingering over hindquarters and then drooping low to her hocks as she wondered at what the other... ah, it clicked, taking but a moment. The brutish bitch was perpetually an aggressive woman, but as she stepped forward slowly, tentatively, she was a different woman entirely. Hideous still, but soft and sweet. Clumsy, too, but that could not be avoided by the inexperienced and oafish woman who was so captivated by the other whom had named her.

Gingerly Wednesday touched the others throat in an exploratory fashion, not used to being so soft, only used to taking. There was a moment where she supposed she might, so habitual it was. But she resisted that temptation, and instead a rough kiss came, that something she could not withhold any longer, so long had she desired to do it. The possessive Wednesday grew bolder and felt her teeth reaching to nibble at the perfect juncture between forehead and earlobe, sweet and tender and admiring in her attempt to adore as she had never done before.