One hand touches her neck. The other reaches toward the space between her and the rapidly fleeing Ceronian scamp. Fingers spread apart and twist together, ready to rend the sky itself asunder and tear open the door she will merely step through to claim her prize. But she flinches, instead. Her grip relaxes, and her hand drops to her side. 

Mosaic laughs and shakes her head.

"Too easy, right Ember? We'll do this the fun way."

But even having said it she doesn't start to move. The sight of her Ember racing through the sands, building obstacles with scattered shells and flotsam as she goes, the wag of her tail perfectly complimenting the smoothness of her form. The wiry body of a true champion, born to run is something that should be drunk like fine wine, shouldn't it? She can spare this indulgence. Just a moment longer.

Mosaic does not run: she flies. Sand explodes behind her in heavy showers of grit and debris as one step carries her twenty meters through the air at a time. Her legs are long and her gait is wide and there is little enough grace to this movement that is better described as an ode to pure power. Her ears bend flat as she soars, to block out the whistling of the air. She feels her own breath in the exertion of her muscles and the impact of her bones. Every step is a long song, I have you, I have you, I have you, I am coming.

She was born for this hunt above all others [color=Red]/across the galaxy without ever resting.[/color]
Lavender and sweat and the bouncing of golden hair beckon her forward [color=Red]/the whiff of Roses bars her way back.[/color]
The thrill of her perfect little back growing closer and closer with every bound [color=Red]/at the last second she always escapes.[/color]
Breathless laughter floating on the breeze like a ghost [color=Red]/two children in a palace big enough to host the stars[/color]

At the edge of the beach there is a hill where the sands give way to sweet smelling grasses and firmly packed dirt. The north slope is filled to bursting with brilliant white Snowdrops with their heads bent in prayer, greeting the spring in anticipation of winter, ready to make summer memories in the twin moons' gentle light. Five kilometers of distance has bought Ember this prize: when she is overtaken, when the huntress grabs her around the waist and lifts her into those strong, sweaty arms it is here in the most beautiful garden in all of Bitemark. 

No mortal hand has ever tended here, and neither shall it have to. The flowers bear witness to an embrace that sees only one pair of feet standing on the ground. The other dangles about her knees. Mouths meet in a kiss that swallows whatever howl is coming, whether its jubilation or warning. Whether Ember is a lover or a traitor, right now her breath belongs to Mosaic. Her teeth are mere piano keys to be played by a clever tongue, her neck and her stomach are strings plucked as one might a lyre, or bent as a bow.

Sfffft, the sneaking of a claw. It robs Ember of clothing bit by bit until she stands on equal ground with Mosaic. Arms with the power to steal a mountain seal her motion away instead, and they do it with such gentle reverence that there is no pain or push or pull beyond the loving suggestion of a leash. Be collared, Ember. Be still, Ember. Be mine, mine, mine, [i]mine[/i], Ember.

Her fingers, tracing along the inside of her thighs until they part. Only now do the pair of them make a bed among the flowers. More blossoms rise up from the ground to see the sight. One back pressed against the hillside so that it curves, the other bending along the opposite arc to match. Lips breathing sweet nothings along the modest little hills on her chest, tongue tracing tickles down along the waist and to the hip.

The weight of a divine creature presses down from hip to shoulder atop a wolf's. Mosaic slides up the length of Ember's body and stares into one pair of twinkling, mismatched eyes with another. Her grin is filled with teeth sharp enough to make a wolf drool in envy.

"Is this proof enough? Shall I make my claim again? Anywhere you go. I will catch you. I will have you, and I will hold you, and I will shelter you with everything that I am. Because you. Are. Mine. Little wolf~"