100%
Her ears throbbed to the rhythm of her surging pulse. Even the muffled churn of the waves behind them seemed not to be able to penetrate the moment unfolding, and her heart beat furiously beneath the pad of her dappled breast as raw emotion swelled and swirled through her core. She seemed suddenly to be blind to the world spinning around them; giddy, drunk on the growing euphoria. It seemed so surreal that the lust once felt had been braver than her fear, but it rose now above the panic and confusion, flushing through her veins like melted snow spilling down from the northern ranges. They were still strangers in so many ways, yet beneath the rusted face of that old Orangemoon moon; some connection had been made that had apparently survived the crushing devastation of disease and grief. Africa still cared so deeply for him- she had mourned his death, unable to sleep for many nights in the cave, and lived through the plaguing nightmares where he called; desperate and helpless. Their affection had defied the Darkness, and grown.

They were aglow in the night, flames dancing wildly to the writhing emotions she felt, and it seemed only to set the mood more; delicate warmth seemed to embrace them (though truly, there was only the mild touch of Tallsun’s first breath). Africa gazed up at him, her pale-golden eyes stricken with concern, cast in the grim shadow of disbelief; shoulders hunched beneath the ripple of her sinewy, downcast neck. He spoke, but she was not easily pulled from the chaotic churn of reservations in her mind. She nodded, almost obediently. Where had he been though for so long? Had the waters of the Earth cleansed him properly? She had heard naught about him for months, and it bothered her, troubled her already wounded credulity. His confession, the revelation that it had not in fact been the sickness toying, eased some pain, and she managed a smile; gentle and meek.

My Africa

He offered not the word she loathed so much, but his tones instead were lathered with so much more. They held the worth that she had thought love should; the yearning, true hunger, and she could not withhold from him, the same way she had been able to with Windwalker. Still her heart beat faster, almost rattling then against the ribs surrounding as she reached to meet the touch of his lips. She sighed deeply, drawing first a lengthy breath filled with the intoxicating stench of him; that which she had lived without already for much too long. "But where have you been?" She asked him quietly, the sound of her voice a mere whisper over the course of the breeze. Her mind seemed to clear a little, her body to sober, and Africa’s whiskered chin fell away to her breast. "Why didn’t you come sooner?" She had to know...

Africa