Ankyra Sound o green world, don't desert me now

she held him in her gaze, but he turned away as if abashed by her declaration. certainly, it was a significant one -- she would allow him time to reel from the gravity (and the responsibility tethered to it) of her words.

she examined the vague area his gaze had fallen to. cracked flowstone, fissures rimed with crystalline deposits -- a hardened, paw-polished floor. he cleared his throat and she brought her gaze back up to his own, seeking an answer.

then you will have them. an assured smile played across her snipey features, and she sucked in the cold air with a relieved breath. it had been her life's work -- the obsession in which she bent the entire of her existence -- to bear children. to be so close to her wish being granted was an elated sense of shaky relief. she rose up on her thin limbs, and having never been a wolf to beat around the bush she canted her muzzle and pulled to him with far more fearlessness than she truly felt.

"you know what to do, then." perhaps the prospect seemed bizarre to kierkegaard -- certainly, she propositioned him out of her own selfish desires and not his own. in her eyes he had exemplified the prerequisite the siren queen needed: male, and tolerable enough that close proximity did not outrage her. they had existed alongside each other for so long, shared countless meals, and hollowed out a bleak existence on that stony shore. the prospect of intimacy with him seemed nearly natural. plus, he was possibly the only male in caiaphas' life she did not harbor deep-rooted derision for. 

it was not the first time their bodies touched, though it was the first time the siren queen initiated it for her own wants. she closed the gap and rested her flank against his, studying him for his reception of her rather bold advancement.