B O A D I C E A*
Wake up and face me,
Don’t play dead,
Cause maybe,
Someday I’ll walk away and say, “You fucking disappoint me,”
Maybe you’re better off this way


The inferno painted temptress moved through the shadows, her viridian gaze wandering too and fro through the darkened areas, peering deeply into the intangible blackness. Where the light dared to caress, she avoided, her slender appendages dancing along the brink of dark and light, daring her to choose a side, but she had chosen long ago. Raising her chromed peninsula, the temptress surveyed the heavens above, her harlequin pin holes scanning the sky, observing the heavily burdened clouds overhead, the dull graphite hue only indicated a tempest was drawing near. As if to confirm her predictions, a heavy droplet of fluid fell from the gods, landing on her ivory stained facade, on the broad facial bone before rolling over her nose, lingering and pooling between her velvet labium. Boadicea opened her jaws, shifting the gathering of water from her lips into her mouth, membranous cavern absorbing the luke warm water, moistening her dried tongue. A low growl vibrated through her chest, rippling through her ribs as she struck a fore limb at the atmosphere before her physique, irritation gathering at the base of her spine at the mere thought of rain. Pushing off of powerful hind pistons, the sienna harlot moved onwards, weaving between and around the timbers that blocked her path, her anatomy moving like that of a feline, sleek and seductive.

Within moments of the first fallen drops, the deluge began, striking and pounding at her hide, only pushing her anatomy forwards. Pushing her chin to her chest, the femme fatale strode onwards, the once dry topography now dampened and made compliant by the never ending torrents from above. Slicing her tendrils at her quarters, the hairs made contact against her sodden epidermis, an audible smack echoing about her as she moved in a thrice beat over the lithosphere, her daggers mutilating the geo with crescent moons. Slowing to a halt, her once polished chestnut hide was now a dark bronze, glistening in the moisture from the heavens above. her gaze surveyed the cavern before her, small torrents of water tumbled over the rocky ledges in small rivulets, splashing into a pool below. Moving forwards stealthily, her daggers clicking against the mineral deposits as she took shelter below the solid structure of the cavern, her body moving around the edge of the pool, standing in the gaping jaws of the cave. Her rust painted agglomeration remained almost blended with the slime covered walls, her internal body heat causing the once damp hairs to become brittle and dry, splintering away from her sleek chassis. Cocking a knife onto its point, the hell witch stood in solitude, listening to rhythmic pounding of the rain into the pools, awaiting a distraction.


BH-Stables