Rosewater Oasis [m] remember your pride

set after formation thread, for @Samirseti

into the crevices of the new palace, a much less grand mesa with many crevices to serve as the hallways. deeper crevices served as chambers, but none led to caverns that weaved through the entire palace. not any that racharra could find anyways.

she parted the vines that draped the royal bedchamber. another larger crevice obscured by a dense layer of the oasis foliage.
a hunt would be needed soon. pelts were needed. the people shouldnt be lying atop the hard floors, or have to cook themselves under the sun if it meant sleeping in the grass and sand. the palms could only do so much.
all of hers are still trapped, but they would carry the stench of death. it was pointless to try for even the one toula had gifted her.

she patted down the one pelt the couple did have. racharra would sometimes sleep separate from samirseti, parting in the night to ponder and mourn. but tonight would be different. she laid on her side, and waited, listening to the hums of the night.

samirseti steps through the draped entrance of their chamber, the vines brushing lightly against his dark shoulders.

gilded eyes fall upon his beloved who rests upon one of few hides home to the oasis. her form curved softly against the lone pelt. usually, sleep has claimed her by the time he has arrived—or perhaps he does not pay attention enough to notice her still awake.

a fault on his part.

are you restless, ya seshf? he moves closer, his shadow spilling over her, and settles beside her with the slow grace of a panther. he lowers his head slightly, his muzzle brushing briefly over her shoulder, while bringing a paw to cup her cheek.

to turn her eyes to his.

your burdens are mine.

samirseti was a strange creature to her.

he emerges from the dark and his shadow envelops her when he couldn't. his touch ignited a flame but there wasn't more to it.

a near mirror of his uncle. sometimes that fire would be one of rage. sometimes, in the dark, it would be one of passion. right now, it's both.
she passed her tongue over his paw, eyes fixed on his. he settled and filled the curves of her body. to kiss him or bite him, racharra struggled to decide.
and yours mine. guided by his hand she turned herself around to face him.
maybe. i don't want to sleep. while she spoke her muzzle would slither just underneath samir's chin, kissing along his jawline. rage melted away for this moment, distracted by intimacy.

there comes a rumble in his throat, as her tongue flicks upon his paw. he comes to grip her tighter then, eyes of sultry fanning gently upon her face.

pressing himself closer to her, bringing connection upon them which was finite.

to her shoulder, he presses a languid trail of kisses. his dark nose feathery, light upon her fur as he drapes her in his affections. from shoulder to the back of her neck, he tends to her; the paw which cupped her face coming to rest upon her paw, to join hands.

no, he did not love racharra. yet, there was no denying his attraction for her. she was beauty, grace, the chosen between here and the heavens. he would cherish her—decorate her in what extent of love he could offer her, but who was to say they could not bloom? their reign had only just begun.

they had between now and eternity to come to true bliss.

let us be restless, my ankh. a breathy whisper that cords in heavy tendrils through their chamber. ever darkening as sunset progresses into twilight. his tongue comes to lap behind her ear, then along her cheek, as he grooms her with a smoldering intent.