THE SEA IS A GREAT DRAGON. IT FEASTS UPON THE SHORE, eating at the boulders with each tidal pull.
THE MOON, SHONE UPON THEM. THE MOON, INVOKES HER SPELL. A GENTLE, VELVET BREATH, UPON THE SURFACE OF THE RAVENOUS SEA. AN IVORY DISC FULL OF PURE, REFLECTIVE LIGHT, FLASHING AGAINST THE EDGES OF THE CALIGINOUS BLACK. OUR DARK ANGEL, SAVOURS ITS MERCURIAL HUNGER. THE DOCILE ILLUSION, WRAPPED IN MOONLIT VIOLENCE. THE BEAUTY OF THE SEAS, MAY WHISPER IN ITS ENDLESS ALLURE. IT'S CALM; HOWEVER, FLEETING. TILL THE WAVES RUSHED, AGAIN. CHURNING FROTH, IN ALL ITS SAVAGE FERVENCY.
THE THRUM. THE RHYTHM. THE SMASHING OF WAVES AGAINST TORTURED ROCKS. HOW THEY RISE AND FALL, HEAVILY; LIKE THE SLUMBERING HISS OF WATERY DRAGONS, CARESSED INTO MOTION BY THE OCEAN'S CURL. THE BESTIAL HEAT OF AN OPAL MOON-NIGHT, AND ROAR OF OBSIDIAN OCEANS, CAME WITH EACH SIGH OF RELEASE. AND SHE WONDERS IF HE COULD HEAR THE WHISPER OF THE BLACK SEAS? IF HE COULD TASTE THE SALT ON HIS LIPS? AND SAVOUR ITS BRINEY STING, FULL OF CRISP, WHITE SAND AND BEACHSIDE FRAGRANCE AND CARNAL REVELATION?
O, OUR DARK ANGEL REVELS IN THE FORCE OF THE SEA. SHE LOVES ITS TEMPERAMENTAL SEDUCTION. ITS DIVINE MIGHT. THE PUSH. THE PULL. THE THROBBING CALM. THE ENDLESS TEMPEST. EURYALE MOVES AS FREELY AS THE SEA. HER SILKEN BODY SLIDES, FORWARD. WRITHING, FROM MOONBEAM TO MOONBEAM. SLENDER FANGS, LAVISH THE MAIDEN'S SOFT, SCARLET-HUED LIPS. HER MOUTH, CURLS WANTON AND EMPTY. PALE, WITH VAMPIRIC ELATION. A LASCIVIOUS SMILE, TOUCHES THE ERMINE CURVE OF HER BEAUTIFUL, CERAMIC MASK - GLINTING SHARP, IVORY KISSES; SWEET, WITH MALICE, AS SHE SIGHS LIKE A WOLF IN THE BLACK, BLACK EVENING. THERE IS BLOOD UPON HER PALE BREAST, FROM THE ANIMALS SHE HAS DEVOURED. BONES, BY HER FEET.
THOSE LONG, LITHE CANINES SHONE ROSE-RED, UPON HER INVITING, BOTTOM-LIP. SHE IS FULL OF VENOM AND HER BEAUTY IS THE WILD, THAT RUNS FREE IN THE FORESTS. UNTAMED. FERAL. FULL OF RAPTORIAL COMMAND, AND HUNGER. SO IT IS WHEN SHE SENSES ANOTHER'S WARMTH AROUND HER, THAT SHE SO COVETS THAT WARMTH IN HIM. SHE CRAVES THAT HEAT. HER VOICE, IS AN ACIDIC CARESS. FULL OF DELICIOUS VENOM AND PREDATORY LONGING. SHE TURNS TO FACE THE DREAM. THE MALE TENOR, SOFT UPON A MIDNIGHT BREEZE - HER VISAGE, PALE YET WITH APATHY.
"WHO ARE YOU?"
EURYALE ASKS, SOFTLY. HER VOICE IS A DARK, SILKY CARESS, STRETCHING FORWARD LIKE THE COME-HITHER CURL OF WICKED FINGERTIPS. PLAYFULLY, LACED, IN CARAMEL ENTICE; LIPS, CURVING IN A ONE-SIDED, LUPINE SNEER. HER MOUTH, BOTH SHARP AND DELICATE IN THEIR SENSUOUS INVITATION. LET HIM COME. LET HIM LINGER. LET HIM FEEL THE FUR OF THE WOLF AND HEAR THE MELODY OF HER VENOM.
AS THE MAN STEPS INTO HER DARKNESS, SHE CAN FEEL THE SILK-HAIRS ON HER NECK, BRISTLE. HE IS EVERYTHING TENDER AND GENTLE AND MYSTERIOUS. HOW HE LINGERS, GRACEFULLY, AT THE EDGES OF HER PERIPHERAL VISION. CAUGHT, IN THE MOON'S FLOODLIGHTS. HE IS YET A SHADOWY FIGURE, OF WIRY ATHLETICISM; TALL, LEAN, AND FULL OF DARK, MUSCULAR ANGLES. HIS BODY, WERE ILLUMINATED BY THE CURVING LIGHT OF THE MOON. HIGHLIGHTED, IN THE BRILLIANT SHIMMER OF THEIR ASTRAL RADIANCE. AS ABOVE, THE HEAVENS' WERE DEVOID OF STARS; SO BELOW, THEY SHONE UPON THE MUSCLES OF HIS BACK. CARESSING, HIS BODY IN A KALEIDOSCOPE DREAM. HER EYES, MOVES ACROSS THE DARK SWEAT OF HIS BAY FLESH. THE FRACTURED LIGHT, HUNGERING LIKE PALE FINGERS ALONG HIS SPINE; BATHING, HIM IN A SEA OF NOCTURNAL STARLIGHT.
HE HELD HIMSELF WITH A GENTLE, UNWAVERING CALM. A PERFECTED COUNTENANCE, OF KNIGHTLY COMPOSURE - ACCENTUATED, BY THE PLAYFUL KISS OF MOONLIGHT, AS IT TOUCHED HIS SWARTHY ARMOR MADE OF STARDUST; DESCENDING, HIS WAIST IN LONG, THIN RIBBONS OF ABANDONED LIGHT. IN HIS SHADOWY ENTICEMENT, HE DREAMILY BECKONS FOR HER. A SENSE OF MYSTERY FOLLOWS HIS SINGLE WORD. YET HE IS NOTHING MORE THAN A FLEETING CARESS, STOLEN AGAINST A GILDED, DOCILE BREEZE. EURYALE CALANTHA, IS MADE CURIOUS BY THE SUDDEN MANIFESTATION OF HIS GENTLE IMAGE. HE IS NEAR ENOUGH, A DREAM WITHIN HER GRASP; AND SHE TAKES IN HIS SCENT, THE WAY AN ANIMAL MIGHT PRESS INTO THE VIOLENT ZEPHYR. DELIGHTING, IN THE ROUGH FRAGRANCE OF HIS MASCULINITY.
"I'M EURYALE."
THE SHE-WOLF BECKONS. SHE LURES. THREADBARE CURVES, DANCING DIM IN THE STARLESS EVENING. INTO THEIR TIDAL VOID, SHE POURS OUT HER SOUL. THE SACRIFICIAL OFFERING. INTO THE SAND. INTO THE EARTH. UNTIL SHE ABANDONS HERSELF IN HER NUDITY, AND WEARS NAUGHT BUT HER OWN BLOOD AS A VISCERAL DRESS. EURYALE STANDS IN FRONT OF HIM AND DRINKS HIM IN WITH SOFT, BEMUSED FEMININE LAUGHTER. TOGETHER, FILLING THE DARKNESS BETWEEN THEM WITH HIS WHISKEY HELLO & HER SILKY BREATH. SHE HOLDS HIS GAZE, WITH A CALM FEROCITY. THOUGH FAR MORE DELICATE. FORE LEGENDS, HAVE WHISPERED THE FABLE; THE LORE. LEGENDS, UTTER OF THE SIREN'S BEAUTIFUL CURSE. OF MEN LOST AT SEA. PULLED INTO THE COLD ARMS OF MURDEROUS MAIDENS. OUR SHE-WOLF, WONDERS WHAT KIND OF MAN, IS HE. THE KIND THAT GIVES. THE KIND THAT TAKES. OR THE KIND THAT RUNS AWAY.
THE MOON, SHONE UPON THEM. THE MOON, INVOKES HER SPELL. A GENTLE, VELVET BREATH, UPON THE SURFACE OF THE RAVENOUS SEA. AN IVORY DISC FULL OF PURE, REFLECTIVE LIGHT, FLASHING AGAINST THE EDGES OF THE CALIGINOUS BLACK. OUR DARK ANGEL, SAVOURS ITS MERCURIAL HUNGER. THE DOCILE ILLUSION, WRAPPED IN MOONLIT VIOLENCE. THE BEAUTY OF THE SEAS, MAY WHISPER IN ITS ENDLESS ALLURE. IT'S CALM; HOWEVER, FLEETING. TILL THE WAVES RUSHED, AGAIN. CHURNING FROTH, IN ALL ITS SAVAGE FERVENCY.
THE THRUM. THE RHYTHM. THE SMASHING OF WAVES AGAINST TORTURED ROCKS. HOW THEY RISE AND FALL, HEAVILY; LIKE THE SLUMBERING HISS OF WATERY DRAGONS, CARESSED INTO MOTION BY THE OCEAN'S CURL. THE BESTIAL HEAT OF AN OPAL MOON-NIGHT, AND ROAR OF OBSIDIAN OCEANS, CAME WITH EACH SIGH OF RELEASE. AND SHE WONDERS IF HE COULD HEAR THE WHISPER OF THE BLACK SEAS? IF HE COULD TASTE THE SALT ON HIS LIPS? AND SAVOUR ITS BRINEY STING, FULL OF CRISP, WHITE SAND AND BEACHSIDE FRAGRANCE AND CARNAL REVELATION?
O, OUR DARK ANGEL REVELS IN THE FORCE OF THE SEA. SHE LOVES ITS TEMPERAMENTAL SEDUCTION. ITS DIVINE MIGHT. THE PUSH. THE PULL. THE THROBBING CALM. THE ENDLESS TEMPEST. EURYALE MOVES AS FREELY AS THE SEA. HER SILKEN BODY SLIDES, FORWARD. WRITHING, FROM MOONBEAM TO MOONBEAM. SLENDER FANGS, LAVISH THE MAIDEN'S SOFT, SCARLET-HUED LIPS. HER MOUTH, CURLS WANTON AND EMPTY. PALE, WITH VAMPIRIC ELATION. A LASCIVIOUS SMILE, TOUCHES THE ERMINE CURVE OF HER BEAUTIFUL, CERAMIC MASK - GLINTING SHARP, IVORY KISSES; SWEET, WITH MALICE, AS SHE SIGHS LIKE A WOLF IN THE BLACK, BLACK EVENING. THERE IS BLOOD UPON HER PALE BREAST, FROM THE ANIMALS SHE HAS DEVOURED. BONES, BY HER FEET.
THOSE LONG, LITHE CANINES SHONE ROSE-RED, UPON HER INVITING, BOTTOM-LIP. SHE IS FULL OF VENOM AND HER BEAUTY IS THE WILD, THAT RUNS FREE IN THE FORESTS. UNTAMED. FERAL. FULL OF RAPTORIAL COMMAND, AND HUNGER. SO IT IS WHEN SHE SENSES ANOTHER'S WARMTH AROUND HER, THAT SHE SO COVETS THAT WARMTH IN HIM. SHE CRAVES THAT HEAT. HER VOICE, IS AN ACIDIC CARESS. FULL OF DELICIOUS VENOM AND PREDATORY LONGING. SHE TURNS TO FACE THE DREAM. THE MALE TENOR, SOFT UPON A MIDNIGHT BREEZE - HER VISAGE, PALE YET WITH APATHY.
EURYALE ASKS, SOFTLY. HER VOICE IS A DARK, SILKY CARESS, STRETCHING FORWARD LIKE THE COME-HITHER CURL OF WICKED FINGERTIPS. PLAYFULLY, LACED, IN CARAMEL ENTICE; LIPS, CURVING IN A ONE-SIDED, LUPINE SNEER. HER MOUTH, BOTH SHARP AND DELICATE IN THEIR SENSUOUS INVITATION. LET HIM COME. LET HIM LINGER. LET HIM FEEL THE FUR OF THE WOLF AND HEAR THE MELODY OF HER VENOM.
AS THE MAN STEPS INTO HER DARKNESS, SHE CAN FEEL THE SILK-HAIRS ON HER NECK, BRISTLE. HE IS EVERYTHING TENDER AND GENTLE AND MYSTERIOUS. HOW HE LINGERS, GRACEFULLY, AT THE EDGES OF HER PERIPHERAL VISION. CAUGHT, IN THE MOON'S FLOODLIGHTS. HE IS YET A SHADOWY FIGURE, OF WIRY ATHLETICISM; TALL, LEAN, AND FULL OF DARK, MUSCULAR ANGLES. HIS BODY, WERE ILLUMINATED BY THE CURVING LIGHT OF THE MOON. HIGHLIGHTED, IN THE BRILLIANT SHIMMER OF THEIR ASTRAL RADIANCE. AS ABOVE, THE HEAVENS' WERE DEVOID OF STARS; SO BELOW, THEY SHONE UPON THE MUSCLES OF HIS BACK. CARESSING, HIS BODY IN A KALEIDOSCOPE DREAM. HER EYES, MOVES ACROSS THE DARK SWEAT OF HIS BAY FLESH. THE FRACTURED LIGHT, HUNGERING LIKE PALE FINGERS ALONG HIS SPINE; BATHING, HIM IN A SEA OF NOCTURNAL STARLIGHT.
HE HELD HIMSELF WITH A GENTLE, UNWAVERING CALM. A PERFECTED COUNTENANCE, OF KNIGHTLY COMPOSURE - ACCENTUATED, BY THE PLAYFUL KISS OF MOONLIGHT, AS IT TOUCHED HIS SWARTHY ARMOR MADE OF STARDUST; DESCENDING, HIS WAIST IN LONG, THIN RIBBONS OF ABANDONED LIGHT. IN HIS SHADOWY ENTICEMENT, HE DREAMILY BECKONS FOR HER. A SENSE OF MYSTERY FOLLOWS HIS SINGLE WORD. YET HE IS NOTHING MORE THAN A FLEETING CARESS, STOLEN AGAINST A GILDED, DOCILE BREEZE. EURYALE CALANTHA, IS MADE CURIOUS BY THE SUDDEN MANIFESTATION OF HIS GENTLE IMAGE. HE IS NEAR ENOUGH, A DREAM WITHIN HER GRASP; AND SHE TAKES IN HIS SCENT, THE WAY AN ANIMAL MIGHT PRESS INTO THE VIOLENT ZEPHYR. DELIGHTING, IN THE ROUGH FRAGRANCE OF HIS MASCULINITY.
THE SHE-WOLF BECKONS. SHE LURES. THREADBARE CURVES, DANCING DIM IN THE STARLESS EVENING. INTO THEIR TIDAL VOID, SHE POURS OUT HER SOUL. THE SACRIFICIAL OFFERING. INTO THE SAND. INTO THE EARTH. UNTIL SHE ABANDONS HERSELF IN HER NUDITY, AND WEARS NAUGHT BUT HER OWN BLOOD AS A VISCERAL DRESS. EURYALE STANDS IN FRONT OF HIM AND DRINKS HIM IN WITH SOFT, BEMUSED FEMININE LAUGHTER. TOGETHER, FILLING THE DARKNESS BETWEEN THEM WITH HIS WHISKEY HELLO & HER SILKY BREATH. SHE HOLDS HIS GAZE, WITH A CALM FEROCITY. THOUGH FAR MORE DELICATE. FORE LEGENDS, HAVE WHISPERED THE FABLE; THE LORE. LEGENDS, UTTER OF THE SIREN'S BEAUTIFUL CURSE. OF MEN LOST AT SEA. PULLED INTO THE COLD ARMS OF MURDEROUS MAIDENS. OUR SHE-WOLF, WONDERS WHAT KIND OF MAN, IS HE. THE KIND THAT GIVES. THE KIND THAT TAKES. OR THE KIND THAT RUNS AWAY.
