[i]"ShhhshshSHHH!"

Mosaic fixed her with a flat stare. The kind that made Ember feel small and silly and flustered. "Are you that ashamed of me?" The question was almost certainly a bit of barbed wit, but Ember wasn't about to let that pass, just in case. Just in case. Mosaic deserved nothing less.

"No," Ember whispered, Sincerity misting her breath, the bright orange-yellow of flowers on the mountainside, the sky at dawn as the sun broke free from the sea. "I don't want you to get in trouble for being found, like this, with a Ceronian. You might be arrested, or ostracized, or trapped underneath a very large rock!" In her mind's eye, she pictures Mosaic with her head and shoulders sticking out from underneath a mountain, chin cupped in her palm, glowering at the world for witnessing the shame of her being trapped by something too heavy for her to lift. She'd scare the sun down earlier and earlier every day, until dusk stopped existing. And then everyone would say: Ember, it is your fault that Mosaic has scared the sun into jumping down out of the sky every day. You should have known better than to seduce her and then let her get caught. You are a bad girl and you are on laundry duty for the rest of your life.

Mosaic stared at her very, very hard. Her lips twitched. That's a smile, right? She's trying not to smile? It's easier with her packmates, who broadcast what they're feeling, what they want her to feel. Mosaic just smells like Home. Like safety, and exertion, and the oil she uses for her hair. On first sight, Ember had lusted after Mosaic; on first sniff, she'd fallen in love.

Then Mosaic rolled over on top of her, pinning her down like the mountain, the muchness of her flesh sending Ember's heart racing like an athlete down some sort of prized contest's track. In the back of her head, she could hear Taurus scolding her, telling her that what she's feeling is what she needs to ignite in the hearts of her targets. The perfect operative uses desire as a leash and a garrotte, depending on what is needed to complete their mission. Between their legs, Ember's tail thwapped helplessly against Mosaic's voluptuous thighs, and underneath her, Ember held her breath, staring adoringly into the gold and the ruby of her mistress's eyes.

"I guess we'd better be quiet, then," Mosaic said, and clamped her palm over Ember's mouth. "There. Now you can't 'get me in trouble.' Is that what you wanted, Emb...?" A narrowing of the eyes, and then the curl of a lip back from a fang, one that knew Ember's neck and breasts well. "Oh. I see. No wonder you're always letting yourself get punished by that pack of strays. Well, I won't be shown up by them." Challenge glinted in Mosaic's eyes, and Ember realized that she was sweating out Lust again, hot-pink tongue-drool spread-lips Lust, growing damper with every half-hearted squirm and muffled meep beneath her lover.

This place would be obvious to any passing packmate for [u]days.[/u][/i]

[hr]

"So, like, did the Earthshaker point anything out to you specifically~?"

A good girl shakes her head. A good girl flicks an ear. A good girl does not struggle more.

"Of course not, what am I sayyyying. He shows up in person for, like, the death of planets. You ever seen him, Emby?"

A good girl... isn't sure. A good girl doesn't remember, so a good girl shakes her head.

"Thought not. Wouldn't that just be [i]wild[/i], though, packie? Seeing Poseidon show up and knowing, ooooh, shit, we're [i]sooooooo[/i] fucked. Well, maybe not us. Everybody else, though. Maybe us. If we were slipping. Probably not. We're his wavecaps. His silly rabbits."

You've always got to have a spotter for breath-holding exercises. Goldie volunteered. So she's lounging on top of Ember, wearing a strategically torn looted top over her wetsuit, presumably all Joy as usual. It hangs around her like a cloud, like the dye in her hair, like the oil on her cheeks, like the smile on her lips, like the servitors tripping over themselves to get her attention. Both of them are hiding out in the mayor's offices, away from most prying eyes, where Goldie can take a break from being adored and Ember can be face-down, hogtied, and buried in Gemini's craftsmanship without making anyone wonder if the wolves are turning on each other.

If she takes a breath, she'll regret it. Chastisement, blossoming hot and red and intense in her nostrils, and Disappointment hanging low and heavy underneath. In a real fight, Ember, this breath might be the one that makes you start drowning. Goldie will keep track for you and change out your gag every few hours; let's see how well you can do for the clan, little wolf. And a knowing smile, a caress of her cheek, a reminder of the incredible high of being loved by the pack.

And yet, unbidden creeps in the thought of Mosaic opening the door, tossing Goldie out the window with one hand (not that Goldie deserves it, she's one of Ember's pack favorites, but Mosaic absolutely would), asking Ember what she'd gotten herself in to [i]this[/i] time, tossing her over one shoulder, maybe spanking her a little, and carrying her off as a trophy, daring anyone in the pack to fight over her. [i]For[/i] her. Unable to so much as squeak, feeling Mosaic's hand on her side, paraded out in front of the village as Mosaic carried her off as a prize, telling Gemini to her face that she'd trained Ember [i]too[/i] well in seduction and sensuality...

"You're doing real well, Embs," Goldie continues. "[i]Too[/i] well. How about a little challenge?" Her claws whisper up and down Ember's sides, the soles of her feet, right behind her ears, as Ember strains every muscle in her body and grinds her forehead into the floor, holding her breath like a true warrior, seconds stretching out into infinity waiting for the playful gold-dyed Ceronian to end the semi-random spike in difficulty, each and every one of her strained whimpers swallowed up into the thickness of Gemini's cloth, almost as beloved as Mosaic's palm.