“both beauty and terror, without beginning, without end.”
For a moment, when Morrighan rushes to divide her from the star-magic, there is only rage that rises to greet the Warden. Forgotten are the moments in the forest where they had dissolved themselves down into fire, touch, and passion, and like stars they had exploded. There is only fury at the feeling of banked fire at her hips and a growl tearing trough the heavy bass drum of the ritual.
This all feel like chains, like golden lamps and salt circles. It feels like being trapped.
And so she turns her teeth from the star's rib-cage and lays them against Morrighan's neck. She bites down-- half lovingly soft, half hard enough to sting. Around them the dance continues, outside the two of them twisted together like snakes trying to drag the other off a cliff. “Always so ready to burn the world down.”. Al'Zahra moves her teeth to the Warden's cheek just to inhale the lingering scent of ash that follows her everywhere. Like she's always ready to devour up the world just to linger in the heat.
Al'Zahra is lingering now. Even when her flashing fury is demanding the retribution of a god, of a forgotten master of the world, of a thing that came before the stars and the mortals, she's lingering. Maybe it's why she brings out a stolen stimulant and holds it against the firelight backdrop like it's a bit of gold glimmering and tempting. “Wouldn't you like to know what it's like to burn with it? Even if it is only for a single night.” Her inherent magic keeps the drug hanging between them, swinging softly side to side like a bell might swing above a church altar.
Instead of pulling away, and giving in to her fury screaming at her to pull the Warden's skin from her bone, she only drags her teeth across the shell of a painted ear. She purrs like a wildcat, like a flame, like something pretending to be tame (only for a night). And when she shivers it has nothing to do with retribution, or lust, or fire.
There is something baser, something darker, something that remakes worlds, dragging itself through her blood slow and slick as oil. It starts to race when she says, “just for one night.”, and lays her lips against Morrighan's.
@Morrighan
