Blackfeather Woods Black Adder

He swallows her, and he lets his raven watch.

Head crooked and ears tight to her scalp, each nimble limb makes careful step towards him. Low in posture, seeking a deity written in blood, and seeking the newborn God whose lips call her with glory. In his name and in his glory, she comes! Quick was her tail, low and ready to fall between her legs with a shown cheek while her eyes prey upon the writhing godess around his throat. She was lucky. She got to enter the stomach of a new God, and rule in his stomach riddled with the slick magma of Holy.

Why, his raven could only dream of being given such a thing. 

To rest in his stomach.

To be eaten alive.

"Ēē ku." 

I have come.

  Crooked smile on her lips, nose pushing out air while she lifted high feet, she approached the very throat the fallen wept in. How envious, raven felt.

Then raven would taste her too. Between her own teeth would quickly rest the tail of The Fallen, tasting her pure, freeing the corpse from the new vessel it took itself upon. And in their eyes, they would see her kneel before them. To her stomach, with the screeching tail, she looked up to them while holding it between her paws and feasting upon it in no simple swallow, but savory bites. 

Does this please him as much as it pleased her to kneel before him? She wants to see that pleasure in his godly eyes, and she wants those eyes to bask upon the smile she held upon her lips in tasting gods vessel. Be pleasured.