Two Eyes Cenote electrum

The laugh is a fragile splendor, a barest magic wrung from the dark moments of distress. Eset crumples back, the affection that hums in her veins too heavy to lift.

Long the yard had flooded with no foundation beneath her paws, with solitude and the lapse of silent hours, the ache for which disappeared as the sesh bent to touch her–

You are mine. Such a phrase had once provoked fear and now it set in the hebsut’s eyes the curiosity of all it meant.

“Kiss me again.”