WHEN SHE WAKES; SHE WAKES, IN THE EMPTY, CERULEAN MISTS OF A STILL-SLEEPING FOREST. WITH LEAVES IN HER HAIR AND THE EARTH EMBRACING HER FLESH FROM BENEATH. THE SOIL; DARK, COOL, SWARTHY WITH FETILE DREGS AND FRAYED LEAVES; SMOOTHES ACROSS HER FRAME WITH ALL THAT SWEET ROTTING, OF DECAYED WILDFLOWERS. AND THEIR SNAKES, CURL BY THE LENGTH OF HER LEGS; SWIMMING AROUND THE SCARLET CONTOURS OF HER FRAME, WITH SUCH VENOMOUS RECKONING; HOW WELL DO YOU REALLY KNOW YOUR, EURYALE? WHEN SHE WAKES, SHE IS COZIED BY THE MUSKY FRAGRANCE OF PINE NEEDLES, AND THE SCENT OF MIDNIGHT JASMINE, FLUTTERING UPON HER RED, RED LIPS. SHE WAKES NAUGHT IN THE LUSH, EXTRAVAGANCE OF MONARCHIAL WEALTH AND FEMININE GLAMOUR; NOR THE REPOSING SOFTNESS OF DELICIOUS, CRIMSON VELVET, SMOOTHED LUXURIOUSLY ACROSS THEIR VICTORIAN BEDFRAME. ALL SILK TOUCH, BRUSHING HOT AND RAGGED, AGAINST HER BREAST.
O, SHE IS FAR FROM THE PURITAN SNOW OF HER HURRIANCE PALACE. FROM THE COLD COFFIN OF A DESOLATE BED. SHE IS HERE BY THE RAW, MOIST EARTH; BETWEEN SHADOW AND THE FIRST STIRRINGS OF NIGHTFALL. SHE IS HERE; AMONG THE RICH, LOAMY PENUMBRA; THE WILD, SIREN CURVES OF HER BODY, BATHED IN THE SOFT LUMEN RAYS OF THE COMING, SUMMER MORNING. SCARLET, WEAVES THROUGH MARBLED BLACKNESS. A VERMILLION FRAME, CURVED AND LITHE. SWIMS LIKE SAVAGE WILDFIRE AGAINST THE DUSKY ILLUMINATION OF AN IVORY RAVINE. THE LILAC HAIR, FALLS AS A VEIL OVER HER BODY. THEIR COLD MIST, ON BARE SKIN; SWIMMING DOWN HER SIDES, WITH ALL THAT CARESSIVE LANGUAGE AND GENTLE MOTION. SWEET, EASY MOTIONS THAT MAY SUGGEST OUR GORGON MAIDEN COULD BE FEELING SERENE THIS EVENING. AND IT IS IN THESE VERY WOODS, THESE VERY MOUNTAINS, THAT SHE FINDS SANCTUARY; HER EDEN - HIS EVE.
SHE RISES FROM HER EARTHEN BED, DECORATED IN BONES. DECORATED IN BLOOD. THE VIOLET STRANDS, SLIP OVER HER FLESH. DESCENDING THE CURVE OF HER SHOULDER TO SMOOTHE ACROSS AN ELEGANT RIBGCAGE. AND SHE MOVES, QUIETLY, IN THAT INVITING, CRIMINAL SAUNTER. BURNING, THROUGH THE STONEY PATHWAYS OF DENOCTE WITH A LOW GROWL. EURYALE, IS THAT BURNING IMAGE OF VIOLENCE; OR WAS IT, EUPHORIA? THE FIERY, CLANDESTINE ARMAGEDDON, CAGED IN FEMALE FLESH. AS IF VIOLENCE COULD NOT ESCAPE HER; NOR, SHE - ESCAPE THE VIOLENCE. SHE HAS LONG DESTROYED HER OWN PATH TO SALVATION; AND THE FIRST VIRTUE SHE HAD DESTROYED, WERE THE HUMANITY IN HERSELF.
SHE LEAVES HER FORESTED EMPIRE IN THE PAST OF A SINGLE AFTERTHOUGHT. THE FERAL WOODLANDS, FADING BACK INTO CIVILIZATION. ENTERING ANOTHER REALM IN PASSING, AS SHE YET SATISFIES HER WANDERLUST. THE LIGHT, SMOOTHES LOW ACROSS THE EARTH, CARESSING SOIL. FADED, IS THE SUN. AN ENGORGED BEACON OF LIGHT, SHATTERING LOW. DRIPPING AMOROUS GOLD THROUGH THE SWARTHY EXTERIOR OF THE ELABORATE GREENSCAPE. FADED, IS THE LIGHT; SLIPPING INBETWEEN THE COLOSSAL, PORCELAIN BEAMS THAT LAVISHED PALE IVORY AND HIGHLIGHTED THE CHAOTIC, ROVING PALACE OF BEAUTIFUL DENOCTE, NOW LAVISHED IN SILKEN EXTRAVAGENCE. ILLUMINATING THE LAST HOURS OF LIGHT, BEFORE SUNLIGHT DRIPS OVER ITS COFFIN ALONG THE HORIZON. POURING DUSK THROUGH THE ILLUSTRIOUS ROADS, THE BODIES THAT SO FLOODED THE STREETS, AND SOON SURRENDERED BENEATH MOONLIGHT AND NIGHTFALL.
EURYALE MOVES QUIETLY THROUGH THE CROWDS OF NIGHT COURT, TILL SHE SURRENDERS HERSELF INTO THE CONFINED GARDEN-PATHWAYS OF THE MOUNTAIN GALLERY, ALONE. THE JADE-BLUE SCARF HOVERS AGAINST THE LITHE, CRIMSON CURVES OF HER PHYSIQUE - DRAPED, ACROSS HER SKULL, ENIGMATICALLY; LENDING A SOFT, MYSTERIOUS SHROUD TO HER PROFILE. UPON HER TEMPLE LAY THE MITHRIL TIARA, WITH ITS MATCHING BANGLE GLINTING ICILY AGAINST HER DELICATE ANKLE. IT IS THE FIRST TIME SHE HAS STEPPED OUTSIDE FROM THE SOVEREIGN LANDS OF TERRASTELLA, AND SHE SOAKS UP THE AMBIENCE OF DENOCTE WITH ANIMAL-LIKE CURIOSITY. THE BEAUTY OF THE GARDENS, FILLED WITH ARTWORK, DREW THE SILENT AWE FROM HER LIPS; AND SHE DRAWS DEEPER AND DEEPER INTO THE FLORAL ALLEYWAYS, PAVED OF MIDNIGHT DREAMS. THE FRAGRANCE OF IRON JASMINE, EVER FOLLOWING THEIR MISTRESS' WAKE.
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