Dragoncrest Cliffs angels in tibet

:o

eight children born to sapphique. the thought curled mireille's crimson mouth with pleasure. she patrolled the blackpine forest upon the thick carpet of blunting needles, breathing the saltbreeze and watching bars of light fall across the body slowly returning to litheness.
the siren descended to ankyra to find a saltlaced woman clad in whorls of licked-up jetstone.
she caught the glittering gaze with the greengem of her own. "you be near sapphique." a soft warning, one that pulsed with more interest than threat.