Luneshale Pass Fingers Tearing Through the Ground

sorry oml lol

Tick.

"Where are you going?"

Machiavelli's side was rubbed by that lanky figure, frantic. Back arching, maw leaning into that soft neck, firm enough to feel the rise and fall of breath and bear air run down his body. Not needed right now? Oh, he didn't love her enough right now? That was it? That was why? Not pretty enough to turn around for, that was it? Oh, why not? Why not at all? 

The devilspawns tail shivered as she could have purred around his frame. 

A soft voice reached out 

"Why do you leave so soon, Machi?"

Tick.

Whispering,

"Stay."

Tick.

And so what if she did not mean it?

Did anyone really?

Didn't matter! Stupid! Didn't matter! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Rattling against the sybarite, a weighted drowsiness overtaking. Feigning, even, the amount of emotion there and the lack there of.

So, she circled, and brushed more. Waiting as if they'd teak a break from their words to take a soft nap right there in the cold night.

Tick

Then desperately.

"Leaving?" Teary eyed, frowning. Nudging playfully. "Come on! Just playin'!" 

And just wouldn't stop nagging.

Soon dragging along like a sorrowful puppy trying to apologize, lip licking, tail tapping, and dragging feet. A weary, sad head that swayed back and forth with a shadow eating away at her frame. Sniffling, nuzzling. Feeling, oh, she could not stand feeling. Head rolling over top of his shoulder, and then looking with eyes searching for validation that he might give. Not leaving. Pulling away from touch, and just crawling. Bad. Bad. She had been bad. The imp grew quiet. Muttering, confused, cracking, asking after a period of silence: 

"Are you mad at me?"


"Did I do something wrong?"