you've been so still, barely beating at all

Zafina · February 28, 2019, 10:22 PM

Imprisoned, banished, into a nexus of my own design...
Now Time mocks me, and my sentence is Gravity.

Zafina took to his words, interest bringing her to step one, no, two steps slower to this ebony voice, wonder alighting her steps to become much more curious with their placement. There was no attention laden to her paw placement- it was only a catalyst to how attuned she was becoming to him.

“I recognize no ‘Meldresi‘. But I do know of a Mephala. And her trade is the only one capable of being here, tonight.”

Of course she spoke after all of his words had laid across the fluffed insides of her attentive auds. He looked as though he could have even been one of Slade’s disciples. But Slade had wit, pause, poise, majesty. This soul was quiet, thoughtful. Seamless.

“I know of your guild. I had been trained by one of the older members in your ways. I know of your gods, your princes, your daedra...”

Her sway only halted for her to stand before this deep mithril glinting void, her garnets challenging the belief of these dark amethysts. The season itself held its breath as these two courted each other’s space. But so close to him she was, the Witch began her slow trace around him, slender frame beginning a semicircle, her own body fading into the ominous sludge of night, re-emerging from the abyss only to fade again.

“What if I told you how acquainted I am with your Dread Father? How close I’ve become to your Night Mother? How often over conversed with your Mephala,...”

Her scandalous figure brought itself back before him. Her dulcets were soft, sweet as honey across a pudding of decadent berries warmed in the summer sun. “What if your training was my livelihood?”

But every sky will build my throne.