Redsand Canyon prüfstein

And Melkor had returned to her.

“Du hast mir nie geantwortet,”  still, giggling now,  “vom aufschäumen aus dem mund.”  To use his tongue  –   it was the only thing she had left of him. She would not have his mouth on hers, nor his hands behind her knees again. She looks at him, though, and continues to look; the waxen features melting into something resigned, reiterated and she knows as much as he does that they can not ever go back to their wending of another. He would not ever be inside of her again.

And if he lusted her any less  –  if he had her now, she would be ruined. Ragdoll.

It had not been her loss, of course.
“Willst du nicht mitkommen?”
Not at all.

She would not take him between her thighs or into her throat, mind you;
but would much rather to see the make of him up close, for she has forgotten all but the color of his eyes all sticky and cloying like jam on palms and Andraste rights herself;
wriggles to peer at him from o'er red-rock cusp with wide and girlish eyes; a tilt of the head that bespoke some well of vulnerability that was reserved for those few had only stole so close to her own healed heart.

“Es ist schon so lange her, dass ich mit einem anderen Sterngucker zusammen war.”

An innocent invitation that he could certainly decline.