Verdant Basin she may have died; we're looking into it.

Niamh allowed him to come closer, and for a few blissful seconds, he thought he was totally in. His nose came near to hers and he breathed her scent in deeply, letting is saturate his lungs and cloud his judgment even further. She smelled heavenly... Like cattails and spring rain and honeycombs - all things he never realized prior to this second how much he appreciated. He leaned further, wanting desperately now to touch her, but it was in that moment her mood changed again.

Artaax pulled back about an inch from the sudden snap of her jaws. He felt his hackles prickle at the ready, but he stopped himself from fully falling back into a defensive pose. If Niamh thought the threat would deter him, she was unfortunately quite wrong in that. Artaax had grown up in the care of extremely powerful women. There was nothing about women he appreciated more than strength, confidence, and attitude. Thus her action was nothing more than an aphrodisiac, and Artaax being Artaax, was not unprepared for how to respond to a temperamental goddess like Niamh.

The feisripa didn't pull back any further than he already had, but he didn't press his luck just yet by pushing forward again. He stilled and watched her warily, his mismatched eyes hungry for her, but patient, and respectful of her desires above his own. It was clear in his body language that he wanted to approach again, and as the seconds ticked by, it was growing rather difficult to stop himself from closing that distance and claiming that touch he'd been cheated. He leaned in again, just a fraction of an inch, a low growl purring from his chest like a giant "?"