Hushed Willows as spring opens (touching, skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose
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Ooc — Rosie Partytime
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The willows, for all intents and purposes, was a beautiful place. It was all billowing, pale branches and soft, sweet grasses; all perfumed zephyrs that tickled the fur and dappled, easy sunlight that was easy on the eyes. Eleuthera had loved playing with the willow’s tendrils as a child, and she loved to play with them today — but it was different. Nowadays her ‘play' was simply walking amongst them and or taking naps beneath their shade, but she enjoyed them all the same (and only cursed at them from time to time if the branches became stuck in her fur or blocked her eyesight).

Neither of those things were happening at this moment, thank god.

She hadn’t thought a lot about what she would do with Kincaid during his visit — as she didn’t actually believe that it would happen. But he was here now, and as she looked over her shoulder to steal a glance here and there, she found herself being filled with endless ideas of the things she wanted to show him. In fact, there wasn’t a single thing in the willows that she thought Kincaid wouldn’t find endlessly fascinating. So, it was silently decided that she would show him everything.

But first, one particular thing. Roses.

The faerie woman led the man shamelessly deeper into the shielded forest, doing her best to sashay her hips for him enticingly; she knew that his eyes would be on her (as she was directly in front of him) and her desire to reward the man for keeping his promise was stronger than her typical prudish senses. Perhaps Eleuthera was simply being a tease, as these were flirtations and not a foretelling of what was to come. She had never been experienced in these types of intimate things anyways, but being near Kincaid made her want to play at something adjacent to it. Really, Eleuthera just wanted to escort him around, and she wanted to be playful with her cowboy while they did so. It had all been far too serious lately. 


“Come," she bade him. “I'll show you something amazing."


Don’t mind me, had the time and the muse! Directly after @Kincaid's 'acceptance?'
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

Messages In This Thread
as spring opens (touching, skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose - by Eleuthera - July 26, 2020, 12:24 AM