This is a new peril.

The hide of the Vermillion Beast has stood proof against sword and bow, tree and stone, enlightened fist and hellish wrath. What technique is this? Why do the muscles that withstood a demon greater than the mountains yield at so light a touch? So unbelievably light a touch. Be wary, daughter of dragons. Let not your guard falter. Watch her. Find out what she’s up to. Sink to the depths of those soft, inviting eyes, and find your answer. Search the mysteries of those warm, rose-blessed cheeks, and find your answer. Behold the shining, unveiled lips for but a moment, before she-

The Vermillion Beast of Lanterns bellows forth a warning to the cursed denizens of Hell, spoken in the ancient tongue of Heaven that none can decipher. The specifics are far too terrible to repeat. But they are very serious. And very real.

(Do not bother asking Melody for a translation later. She will be too busy laughing to tell.)

Why? Why do you do this to her, oh flower of Heaven? Don’t you know? Didn’t you see? A Beast is for destruction. A Beast is here, to break the things that need to be broken, because nobody else will do it. A Beast does not. A Beast [i]couldn’t.[/i] So how was a Beast to prepare for gentle, soothing fingers, caressing her horn? How was she to know that was a place dragons ought to be held?! None of this. None of this! Why. You. Y-you…

She purrs.

Her awful voice hid, in the deepest places of her heart, and there it shook and it shook and the soft rumblings flowed through her body and set her tail to flicking about the wastes. She presses her head the barest bit closer, pressing into[i] her[/i], and the rumbling passes through her too. She sinks into the rain-soaked garden. Her thoughts float on the wind. Melody is close. She is so close she could just…if she maybe…parted her lips…does she have, no, maybe…how…

Too late. Melody is close. The Beast’s jaws part. A long tongue flicks at her ear, and a rich breath of fragrant fire washes over her, and the delight of her giggles is the most precious treasure yet.

For a moment, everything is. And it is, by a miracle, enough.