Sunbeam Lair [m] who try to turn you
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worheda
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#1
Conception 

the sunkissed stranger had cooled the fire that smolders with a low but demanding heat upon her skin, beneath every fibre of her fur for a time. when they'd parted ways, she had considered returning to rivenwood then and there but after some rest and she awoke with the familiar fire and desire to keep traveling gripping her. there was no one for praimfaya to speak to about this so she must only assume that it's normal; that perhaps it took more than one prospective sire to quench the flames.

without her mother — or any sort of mother figure — she must ride it out blindly; a fledgling learning to take flight.

so she ventures further; letting her legs carry her where they may without regard to where they take her. she careens north when she reaches the sunspire — not too eager to stray near the saints ( though they have been quiet and still hold the canyon as far as she was aware ) — and eventually comes to the lair as the sun began it's descent; casting the world in a startling golden halo. she investigates the cavern cautiously; initially following the sound of fresh water within the cavern and the scents of prey lingering within.

even the cavern: full of budding life that would, in the coming weeks, be flush with greens is touched by the golden halo of the setting sun and content she is alone, praimfaya allows herself to relax, stretching out on the mossy stone nearly the crystalline water's edge.

Mature Content Warning


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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: eventual sexual themes.
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#2
Rowan was almost ready to turn back. But he didn't. Exploring the mountains filled some part of him he didn't know was empty. The risk, the danger of the rocks, the coolness where trees coated the high hills.
But there was more. 

Rowan looked to the sky, watching the milky blue fade to yellows and pinks. He probably shouldn't keep travelling at night. He shouldn't be away for so long. But... He wanted to find another pack, someone who would be with them not against them. He didn't want those Redhawks to have the advantage over him. 
Yet he found nothing here but this opening in the rock. 
A cavern. 

Rowan sniffed around the entrance, realising there was the same sort of smell as there was on Akari when she came to the woods. Someone could need help inside! 
He rushed in on light feet, nose casting for danger and a source - not knowing that the two would likely come from the occupant. 
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#3
phone post @ work

praimfaya, in the midst of unintentional meditation, finds her muscles relaxing; doing her best to focus upon the soothing sounds and soft golden halo of light in lieu of focusing on that creeping fire beneath her skin that presently plagues her. it works ...for a time. slowly but surely it begins to snake into her thoughts like a growing weed; persistent.

she drawls in a breath and startled when the sound of rapidly approaching footfalls draws get attention. her hackles bristle as the stranger emerges from the shadows of the tunnel. who’s there? praimfaya inquires at the silhouette taking form in the writhing shadows.
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#4
The stranger was definitely in here.
That smell was curling through the air...for some reason seeming to beckon him in.
He halted at the soft rumble of wariness from the darkness.
His eyes adjusted a few moments later to see a woman about his age, probably older, bristling.
He'd certainly disturbed her.

"I- uh. Rowan. Rowan Blackfeather."
He wasn't expecting this. He was expecting someone to be passed out because...that smell was...bad? He swallowed. His plans didn't plan this far.
"Are you ok? I thought you might be...hurt." He didn't know if that was the right word. Akari seemed perfectly fine after fainting. He stood like a deer ready to run. He'd made a mistake he was sure.
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#5
the stranger introduces himself as rowan. rowan blackfeather. if she heard that sirename before it goes unnoticed now. praimfaya relaxes, feeling the slow burning fire beneath her skin flare to life as she inhales deeply, drinking in his scent over the scent of moss and sharp tang of damp rock. i'm not hurt, praimfaya assures him. i'm in heat. she supplies, unsure how to candy coat it. perhaps if she were speaking trigedasleng she might've found a way to construct it so it didn't sound so blunt but the rush of hormones through her body are making her extra no-nonsense.

praimfaya gives a small cant of her head and pushes herself to her paws as her frostbound gaze studies him in the golden light filtering in through the split in the rock overhead. have you ...not been around a woman in heat before? she inquires, wondering why his first instinct was to assume she was hurt.
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#6
She seemed to calm, satisfied that they weren't about to clash.
His ears pricked and fixed his stance with a quirk of his lips.
He assessed her: how she stood, her voice. Her eyes were clear and bright, burning with...something he couldn't place. She looked like no one else he'd met before.

Stormbringer with hoarfrost eyes.
At opposite to his warm gold and deep chocolate hues.
He gave her a puzzled look. Heat? A woman in heat? "What, you need some water? Are you too hot?"
Utterly clueless.
Though...the longer he stood there, the more that feeling in him grew. That tickle of something he didn't yet understand.
"What's your name?" He wasn't going to let her get away with holding all the cards.
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#7
praimfaya's frostbound gaze surveys him, studying him to find him looking at her confused. it occurs to her in that moment that perhaps he doesn't know what she means. though she is not embarrassed she feels a soft swell of awkwardness. she assumes; because though no one has really given her 'the talk' in her life she'd been forced with the reality of it during her brief tenure at roangeda when having been approached for permission — of which had never fallen through. no, praimfaya murmurs, trying to stifle her chuckle before it can pass from her lips. i do not need water. if only, she thinks, water would help.

i'm praimfaya. she offers at his inquiry, subtly shifting nearer; a few ghosting steps. who're you? the commander purls in return.
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#8
He couldn't tell if the stiffness in her voice was from irritation or suppression.
His tail twitched, thinking. What could he do? He must be wrong about something.
He swallowed, not realising his tongue had dried in his mouth.

She drifted closer and Rowan dipped his head slightly, nearing towards her himself. There was a pack scent on her coat. Maybe they were nearby. That scent clung to her, urging his body to react. But he held still, fighting that knotted feeling in his gut. She asked for his name again - probably something to do with this illness Rowan suspects she has.
"Rowan Blackfeather," he replied softly, drifting another step closer on controlled feet.

"What do you need, Praimfaya?" His voice was soft but unexpectedly smooth and slightly deeper. Rowan's eyes widened for a second, resisting the urge to cough to fix how he sounded. But he was hella out of ideas for how to treat her so, he might as well ask.
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it is hard for praimfaya to focus — and truly the last thing she wished to do in that moment was hold a conversation; which is what viz is using as an excuse to cover her own forgetfulness. rowan, he supplies again and the commander does her best to retain it this time. the itch beneath her skin is making it hard for her to focus on anything else but unlike the sunkissed stranger before this one seemed determined to talk first. there was no way to wax her desire poetically — at least not in this instance. she can only express her desire plainly. you. she tells him simply, ghosting forward once more, tail wagging slowly behind her.
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#10
Ok well, shit.
Rowan was not experienced at all. He has never seen the birds and bees. HE has never had 'The Talk'. He only recently found out that babies come from a woman.
He let out a long breath, trying to make his body relax but there was certainly no relaxing when she stepped closer.
His eyes darted around quickly, looking for a sign from the Daedra or anything to help him with this... woman.
You?? Internally, Rowan was clutching his butter covered straws and making a big ol' mess.
He was pretty sure he was going to run away from a good second before the ol' reliable 'natural instincts' kicked in and guided him to her and what she needed.

After The Deed, which did include too much fumbling from Rowan and some agitated rumbling from Praimfaya, they parted.
Rowan wasn't quite sure what to do with himself now. He brushed up alongside her, looking for some sort of affection. He softly nibbled at her nape, tail waving softly.

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when it is finished; praimfaya lets out a soft sigh of satisfaction. it was, perhaps, not as smooth as her time spent in the arms of the golden man but it quieted the demanding fire of her body. and for that, she is grateful. she is unsure for how much longer she would have to suffer it and hopes that with her second suitor — now brushing against her side — would be the last. sleeping around with strangers doesn't exactly tickle her fancy but, with any luck, it would end with the result she hopped for.

the nibble of his teeth at her nape drawls a soft whine from her; enjoying it for a prolonged moment. she shifts then, giving herself space to offer him a soft nip to his jaw; of thanks.

she lingers for a bit longer before eventually heading her own way.

edited a conclusion for archival.
trigedasleng dictionary
currently not accepting any new threads w/pri. wrapping up all on-going threads

━─┄ i am both
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