Starglow Basin your bloodstains on my custom coutures

she didn't miss his wandering eye, and the way it lingered upon her slender curves. she even moved a bit differently in the wake of it, shifting to allow the moonlight to cast shadows and spotlights in all the right places. 

fiamma had been alone and lacking company for far too long.

un piacere, ocho, she purred, lifting her chin to survey him much the same way. the woman chuckled at his question and gave a brief shrug. change of scenery, i guess.

the days were hot and the nights were cool. it was unlike anywhere else she had ever traveled.

un amico di soto, suppongo? fiamma queried, cocking her head. he could hardly be anything else, given his close proximity to the camp—and the fact that he hadn't been disemboweled by now.

unless she was the first to have spotted him. . .