
An art of illusion can be more over powering than anything ever could. The picture of a woman gliding over the ground, dark robes consuming her figure, a hood hiding all her features, and only her crystalline voice, that sirens call that beckons to the soul that is her counter. The one that completes her utterly in more ways that she dare ever express.
The prey comes to the hunter... she provokes him, in her own dark mysterious way. Knowing the smallest of details that will bring forth just the reaction she wants from her hunter... and he ensnared his most sought after prey.
She did not dare give in easy this time. A short public courtship will have nothing on the dance between hunter and prey that has lingered over time and distance. It has not in any way diminished their pull to one another. Those soul piercing eyes that ensnare in a dark obsession. A dark desire.
Oh she is every bit that dark desire, that unquenchable thirst that lingers in the back of the throat. Be it anger, be it hate, be it lust, or love. Be it soft and sensual, be it raw and fierce, the pull is there. It burns in sets of eyes that twin and mirror one another. Strength and sensuality commingle until its more addicting than any drug. Neither can get enough to state their addiction, their craving. Seeking for that next high.
Under moonbeams they found one another again, his prize, his tempest, his silent strength. Forever her heart remained loyal and true. Always there for him, always within his grasp, in his sights. And once the wool was lifted it was she that stood there surrounded by the mist. In silence she called to him. She was never forward in her advances to him. It was in a mystic that so few hold.
Her hold is one that will never let go. Her heart is more his than he will ever understand. Will ever know, even understand. She meant it when she said forever. When she fell in love with her tarnsman she gave over more of her self than she ever realized.
The words of Calico will always echo in her mind, how right her slave was. Her heart never did close, it was always open to love, his love. And would wait, did wait. She knew deep in the dark hidden web of her heart that he would come back to her.
Breathe in deep of her, drink even more. Touch and feel, hear and listen, crave and love. Need her and not be ashamed of it. Be open about it. Be what they have always been, the Tarnsman and Tempest, the Hunter and Prey. Their tango is one that may never end. No matter the odds that life throws, some how, some way, love made a way. Gave them the chance they needed.
Did she know of the others, she did, and never said a word. She knew that he would have to make a choice all on his own. And know that she would never become second again. He would choose her or lose her. It was the cusp she plainly put out there. Choose her and love her, or let her go forever more. And it was not an easy choice to put one in, but there was a part of her that needed to see him in such a struggle. Needed to see just where his heart rested.
Did the tempest really hold her tarnsman's heart, or was it lip service. Was she the one that he craved to have near him. Could he really not live this life with out her touch, with out her perfume lingering upon him when he rose the next morning, be without her voice that lingered in the halls, her haunting visage moving with grace and elegance in the halls, that could make him weak in the knees and hot with desire with but a look and movement of her head. Exposing the vital woman she was. Exposing the hidden passions that boiled in her own blood.
Would he come to steal more moments with her, make her his. Make her more than just a tittle, but utterly make her his by giving over his heart. Putting it in her hands this time with trust. Opening more to him, she is fully ready to love him. To die for her Home Stone, to die for love if it calls for her sacrifice.
He now knows more than he ever did, has that opened his eyes to what she was willing to give up for him. She might not have towed the line so openly, but in her own way she was thrilling and far more than those that were between their fall and rise once again?
She believes now, that he has truly seen what was always there before him. Always hungered for him, yearned for him, pleaded for him to see.
So they start anew, all past mistakes are forgiven, love has been given another chance. Be it but a few moons or many, they will rise and love will always win.
So breathe deep of me... and consume me. I am yours... forever.
The prey comes to the hunter... she provokes him, in her own dark mysterious way. Knowing the smallest of details that will bring forth just the reaction she wants from her hunter... and he ensnared his most sought after prey.
She did not dare give in easy this time. A short public courtship will have nothing on the dance between hunter and prey that has lingered over time and distance. It has not in any way diminished their pull to one another. Those soul piercing eyes that ensnare in a dark obsession. A dark desire.
Oh she is every bit that dark desire, that unquenchable thirst that lingers in the back of the throat. Be it anger, be it hate, be it lust, or love. Be it soft and sensual, be it raw and fierce, the pull is there. It burns in sets of eyes that twin and mirror one another. Strength and sensuality commingle until its more addicting than any drug. Neither can get enough to state their addiction, their craving. Seeking for that next high.
Under moonbeams they found one another again, his prize, his tempest, his silent strength. Forever her heart remained loyal and true. Always there for him, always within his grasp, in his sights. And once the wool was lifted it was she that stood there surrounded by the mist. In silence she called to him. She was never forward in her advances to him. It was in a mystic that so few hold.
Her hold is one that will never let go. Her heart is more his than he will ever understand. Will ever know, even understand. She meant it when she said forever. When she fell in love with her tarnsman she gave over more of her self than she ever realized.
The words of Calico will always echo in her mind, how right her slave was. Her heart never did close, it was always open to love, his love. And would wait, did wait. She knew deep in the dark hidden web of her heart that he would come back to her.
Breathe in deep of her, drink even more. Touch and feel, hear and listen, crave and love. Need her and not be ashamed of it. Be open about it. Be what they have always been, the Tarnsman and Tempest, the Hunter and Prey. Their tango is one that may never end. No matter the odds that life throws, some how, some way, love made a way. Gave them the chance they needed.
Did she know of the others, she did, and never said a word. She knew that he would have to make a choice all on his own. And know that she would never become second again. He would choose her or lose her. It was the cusp she plainly put out there. Choose her and love her, or let her go forever more. And it was not an easy choice to put one in, but there was a part of her that needed to see him in such a struggle. Needed to see just where his heart rested.
Did the tempest really hold her tarnsman's heart, or was it lip service. Was she the one that he craved to have near him. Could he really not live this life with out her touch, with out her perfume lingering upon him when he rose the next morning, be without her voice that lingered in the halls, her haunting visage moving with grace and elegance in the halls, that could make him weak in the knees and hot with desire with but a look and movement of her head. Exposing the vital woman she was. Exposing the hidden passions that boiled in her own blood.
Would he come to steal more moments with her, make her his. Make her more than just a tittle, but utterly make her his by giving over his heart. Putting it in her hands this time with trust. Opening more to him, she is fully ready to love him. To die for her Home Stone, to die for love if it calls for her sacrifice.
He now knows more than he ever did, has that opened his eyes to what she was willing to give up for him. She might not have towed the line so openly, but in her own way she was thrilling and far more than those that were between their fall and rise once again?
She believes now, that he has truly seen what was always there before him. Always hungered for him, yearned for him, pleaded for him to see.
So they start anew, all past mistakes are forgiven, love has been given another chance. Be it but a few moons or many, they will rise and love will always win.
So breathe deep of me... and consume me. I am yours... forever.


























