The Tangle when you grow older and all those boys grow tired of you

At some point, she’ll stop comparing Blixen to Aviana or Artaax just as she had when she’d been in the other Drakru’s embrace. The other woman had experience on her, misleading her through the whole process. It will be better if she and Blixen can figure it out on their own, using their lack of experience as a guide. Maybe if Aviana had not invited her in, she’d worry they could not do this, but Blixen moves anyway and she tries to focus on that.

She thinks of Artaax and his gentle ministrations. Blixen is much more desperate and hungry and she finds she likes that, too. So much of herself is bound somewhere deep and if she only allows herself some freedom, she might find it, but right now she lets her friend search for it for she is much too exhausted to do the digging. Most of her life is spent in question and Blixen has never once had to do that, as far as she knows, and though she is nervous, there is a confidence Mallaidh can’t deny. A confidence she wishes she could have but likely never will.

Mallaidh sighs, turning her head a little. She wants to watch but she closes her eyes, feeling where Blixen is instead of seeing. Aviana had not returned anything for her, and Artaax… well. Artaax is forgotten. A low growl rumbles in her chest, arching her back slightly, and allowing her friend the freedom to do as she pleased.