On the betrothal night two enemies meet under the night sky. In a ceremony of peace between two waring peoples. The Prince of the song people greets his late mate to be with a muck bow.
Here she arrives. At last. My one true bitter sweet love. Ah. She greets me with a sword and companions armed for war. What is it to be? Vows made or blood feed to the ground.”
Bow to me. The war is done. Your village at my command. I have won the war of summer born rivals this day. What say you?”
Has madness finally taken your mind in our game of wills and clashing mental fortitude? Why do your eyes glow so at the sight of me?”
You know why. Madness?! That took me several cycles a go. You shouldn’t be so beautiful. I shouldn’t want you as I do. I prefer my hate. I prefer my loathing of you then what over shadows it. I would rather taste the poison of hatred and venom then… then.. My love.
What you about? There is magic in your speech and my heart races at the steady heat of your glare.
What is the condition of this enternal pack we share? I can not name it. I can only sense it and taste it in song.
A thousand tears
A thousand nights
I hunger for you.
I thrust for you.
My sword is steady. My heart can not be changed.
Your song is….
Biter sweet tears
Sorrow and joy.
I hunger for you
I thrust for you…
Cara’s sword drops as song and longing capture her female needs and feminine feelings. She falls to her knees to the power of game and hunter’s passion.