Swiftcurrent Creek universum

She felt nothing, and while part of her was relieved, that part of her had slowly begun to die following the day the curse had been placed. It faded more and more each day, leaving her existing within a shell of herself. Now, she was an animated corpse- and had become less Moss, and more a moth in its final stage of life. She could not enjoy or aspire; all she had left to do was create, and then expire.

He looked upon her with wanting eyes and she moved toward him, to press her shoulder to his chest and invite him. It was nothing personal, her trepidation; she wanted nothing physical from anyone. But it was necessary, for what she wanted.

”No.” She answered. ”This, and nothing else.” Cryptic, still, but firm. If he needed any more invitation, she could mimic what she’d seen others do, and tug him away from his sensibilities with a guttural croon and an insistent feathering of her chattering teeth through his fur.