Dragoncrest Cliffs [m] to everyone, for helen

the change came upon her swiftly at the change of the month, corrupting her in a volatile way. ah; she kissed rosalyn.
some time later, the obsidian emerged into the evening. the rush of saltwater filled her senses; the wind tempted her skin, already hot and intemperate beneath her cinnamon coat.
she had chosen; @Merlin perhaps knew it, but she sought him all the same, plume arched proudly as she wended through the oceanpine forest.

Merlin had avoided to remain alone with Erzulie ever since their talk about a month ago. He had needed time to ruminate on all the "what"s, "why"s and "how"s and with no one really to talk about all this, without feeling utterly embarrassed, his anxiety increased. It was easier therefore to leave all these troubles behind and pretend that they did not exist. Because he would be none the wiser at the right time than before. 

However, Erzulie had been right about one thing - you could not explain everything in words. Some things had to be done and some... as he found out now, just needed to be felt for the first time to truly comprehend. He had been aware of the change in the atmosphere, it had made him both giddy in anticipation of something big and also a little nervous, because he had not yet put two and two together and figure out, what the sum actually meant.

But he was soon to find out, because the captain of that fateful ship was coming for him fast, while he was still clueless about the ensuing crash.

the redfurred sapphiquian had studiously circumvented her path for a long while; it was part of why erzulie prowled so cunningly for him. she knew that men found her desirable out of season; within it the harlot gained a formidable knife's-point that she was happy to whet upon the man of her choosing.
and, as she had told merlin, this year that was him.
when his crimsondark pelt filled her gaze, the harlot grinned and stalked to circle him once, settling along his left flank with a sibilant growl crooning in her throat. "i not be forgettin'."
she suspected that too, this had not escaped his mind.

Merlin had entertained a small glimmer of hope that, when the right time came, all of his issues would suddenly disappear and he would emerge from the clouds, confident and knowing everything, showered in golden light and with choirs of angels singing high-praise for his divine being behind him. Quite a fantasy, eh? Who can blame him for being naive? 'cause all the dudes around him - those in old paintings, those in modern photo-shoots, those in novels and those in films - just had it all figured out (human references just to enhance the feeling of unworthiness Merlin felt). They did not look as if they had a single problem in their lives. They would know exactly, what to do and how to act, if a beautiful woman - all ripe and welcoming - sidled up to them and tried to seduce them. Compared to them he was a... a... him. Yup. Merlin could be a fine swearword for guys just like him. Anxious that they should please people, even at the cost of their dignity. If there was any to begin with. But that was a problem to deal with another day. 

"O... okay," he replied, looking straight ahead, as if one look directly at Erzulie would turn him into a stone.

there was a resistance to him; it was not firm nor defined, but erzulie even in her heated malaise found herself drawing back somewhat, residing alongside him for a space of time. there was no desire in her to persuade an unwilling man; he was young and shy, and she knew her own power.
it was not necessary to draw him up to perform; erzulie was content to be silent for a time, warm alongside him and within her own flesh. "it be my time, but it does not need to be yours, merlin." voice warm; the harlot was used to seeking her own way, but some part of her wished this path to be toward him.

Erzulie backed off a little and thus gave Merlin a space to draw a deep breath and sigh. It did not make his troubles go away immediately, but he no longer felt like a cornered animal at least. He had been given an out, which was tempting and he was 99% sure of taking it, save for that annoying single one. If he walked away now without even giving a try, he would feel more like a failure than if he stayed, he gave it a shot and proved himself to be a total failure then. In the latter case he would have an experience - regardless of whether it was good or bad - no one would be able to take it away from him. 

"I... I'll give it a try," he told her with a shy side-glance and a small wag of his tail. If it was to happen, it would not be anything spectacular. Awkward to the point of not being good at all. With fumbling, missed attempts and a lot of "sorry"s. He would be anxious to get it over with, gaining a hint of pleasure and afterwards not understanding, what had all the fuss been about. It would not be something he would wish to repeat or be enticed to do in the future. Once was enough. And - very likely - once would be enough for Erzulie too. 

If it was not to happen, then Merlin would be left wondering for a little while, what could have been, but over time he would quite usefully forget that there had ever been such a situation. 

Your choice. Wrote both elusive outcomes - choice is yours. :)

<3

it was enough for erzulie, who took merlin's trepidation for the air of an anxious boy. the obsidian closed her eyes a moment, drawing a breath, and then she sought to draw the redfur away, to the treeline where she would patiently sequester them both to teach and to please.
for such things there were few so forbearing as erzulie, who guided him through the routine her figure demanded of them both.
once, enough; she would linger for as long as merlin could remain in her company, and change both their paths for her own meandering own beside the water.

Merlin did not stay long afterwards. He stayed as long as he thought it to be polite and appropriate, then excused himself and slunk away in the woods to ruminate on, what had taken place, and feel relieved that this was over and that he would never have to do it again. And only later would he realize that something else would have changed. He no longer felt crippling embarrassment in front of Erzulie. It was as if he had been admiring a beautiful painting from afar for a very long time and then had taken a second, more detailed look and seen the lines that age had drawn there, the cracks on the facade. Beautiful - yes, but worn and faded around the edges. Knowing now, what the culmination was of an extreme infatuation, and how it dwindled soon after, he would become a little cynical about the whole deal. Love was fleeting and inconsistent, gave more trouble than it was actually worth.