Black Morass [m] my time

you did well, ione. he whispers, softly, a tone of voice only for her. heart a rapid beat within his chest following the aftermath of their consumption of one another. and he lowers his head, dragging his nose along the line of her spine as he breathes her in deeply, savoring her scent now mingled with the metallic tang of blood. his tongue laps at the wound he’s inflicted, tending to it with surprising care.

i see it now. a legacy that will make the heavens weep. and it begins with the nectar of a mother’s womb.

forehead now comes to press against hers as his body cups hers, legs entangled, bodies rising and falling in mismatched rhythm as they breathed together. his breaths slow, mighty. a rumble thick in his throat, a sound of please that falls from parted lips as he brushes his snout against hers. i hear the mighty thrum of our children’s hearts already.