Nova Peak Wēkenben

His speech is rolling and heavy and strange and the most lovely thing she’d ever heard. She cannot comprehend a word he says, and yet in the truest annals of herself she understands all of it. And now she must concentrate on breathing in and out and not think so deeply of what they’d just spoken to one another or he'll render her entirely to water.
Though her eyes gloss wet with too much emotion, she smiles against his lips, finding him more attractive and livelier than ever, for love had gilded her with its bewildering magic.
Straying, she nuzzles Skorpa's velvet fur just beneath his ear, feeling safe and roused within the arms of the man she loved. His lips are next, kissing sensually slow because she can, lingering over each lip because she cannot stop herself.
Skorpa murmurs more words. Sentences that invoke intimacy.
Ayovi loves listening to his thoughts, even if she cannot parse them. With every one she hears, she falls for him more deeply. It is the best kind of falling.
She hopes it will never end.