respired: and hold me in your arms (let's take it to the grave)
ᴋᴏʟᴛɪʀᴀ ·sᴜɴsʜɪɴᴇ· ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜᴡᴇᴀᴠᴇʀ ([personal profile] respired) wrote in [community profile] futurology 2016-04-13 03:25 am (UTC)

[ Tired as he is, Koltira still looks on this enterprise with perhaps too much interest. He watches carefully as Bariyan literally opens himself up, as the blood trickles down his neck, over his collarbone.

He runs his tongue over his canines as he observes Bariyan's exposed neck muscle: corded and dark, red and raw. If he weren't so enervated, he'd pounce on Bariyan right now.

But he is, so he doesn't. He just waits. ]


Hmn.

[ He takes the shard. Holds it up.

Runs his tongue along its jagged length, slowly, so as not to cut himself. There's magic in the blood, too; there always is. The best kind. ]


How much can I take?

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