Lion Head Mesa bull

"i love you, prince. i always will."

she felt it. the same way she had felt the Apis Bull, the way she had felt her own divinity upon rising, the way she felt all things so horribly deeply.

his worship ran deep and cutting like a harsh river.

she could not explain the need to show him things physically, the way she did think of kissing him. it overcame her all at once as she stood there. half over him half off of him.

kiss me.

nearly stunned by her own voice.

before eyes and ears find us in full.

but her voice was not an order. it could not be for such a thing, for him. if he shied away, if he felt distaste at the idea she would not push him.