ā + does hair count as a prompt? ( you definitely brought this one on yourself )
Dark fogĀ roils along the ground, the eternal blanket of darkness settling between the trees which spread beyond sight. The warmth and sanctuary of the campfire are long gone--cold and damp winds howling through unseen canopies.Ā
Fingers are tangled into luscious locks, fevered in their approach and mouths seeking in the dark. Neither of them needs to know--donāt need to ask. This isnāt in a trial and itās on their own time, though nothing goes unseen by the Entity. Time fades away in this place once itās not being thought about.
Exploring hands from both parties; if theyāve figured each other out by now they donāt say anything. Kateās soft voice and breaths of air are only heard by the one causing such sounds. Zipper has been pulled down to separate leather and her hands press to the teeshirt underneath ( though it provides no additional warmth. )
Legionās hands are worked into her long hair, short nails gently scraping against her scalp before fingers curl and tighten--handfuls of soft waves taken in control as they pull her head back to expose her neck. The top she wears is already enough to expose much of her skin, but the act of holding her still shows promise. Mouth covers her pulse while teeth and tongue aim to bruise.
In the haze of heat and want, Legion finds their hands empty when they focus again. Had the Entity swept her away to a trial?Ā
It was possible she was never there in the first place, serving as another strange illusion that leaves them confused.
