Lion Head Mesa [mp]The Night Spins

 A lord was soon by her side?

He who which she did not know. Not well. She knew his name in scent, by the sweat glands and trails through the chamber tunnels. That had been greeting enough. Though, this lord, he spun. In his nimble legs, they were blood in build to her. Yet distant. He was a fragment of the night broken away from the sky in her eyes, in that moment, in that time, as her mind clouded with haze. Heavy, heavy head. In gesture, her head swiveled, and ears fell flat to her head; her way of addressing his approach, yet she felt the sky turning her again.

Little did she know this man, and trust was fickle to put present, but little choice was growing available, and trust she would be pushed to give him with every blink of the night's souls. Another stumble, again to her right, towards his flank. Her ears came to a gentle vibrate and her chest rose low in her throat. "Yes? He is generous?" A smile, but her body clear in sickly demeanor. An unfamiliar man, but his presence was lively. Inviting. Against his swooping body and proud space, she leaned to him and offered gentle eye contact.