"O-OH…!" HER RHAPSODIC VOICE TUMBLED AWKWARDLY FROM BETWIXT VELVET LIPS, AS THOUGH A STEADY BROOK PRECIPITOUSLY WARBLING OVER DISJOINTED PEBBLES. SHE NARROWLY ELUDES THE WARMTH OF HIS SKIN; THE CONTOURS OF SINEW THAT, ENTANGLED LIKE LISSOME, COVETOUS VINES PREDATORILY PURSUING RIPENED SUSTENANCE, STRIATE OVER THE DISTENTION OF CHISELED CURVES. HE IS MARBLED, AS A MAN SHOULD BE; HIS ASSEMBLY IMMODESTLY PATTERNED OF GLADIATORIAL MASS, SEDATE AND YET PROVOCATIVELY IMPOSING. SHE IS TEMPERED IN HER UNCERTAINTY OF HIM, HOWEVER; SECRETLY LULLED BY THE TENUOUS CADENCE OF THOSE SWARTHY FEATHERS, THEIR TIPS TWINKLING AS THEY CAPTURE THE AURORAL KISS OF MOONGLOW. "I APOLOGIZE, I SHOULD HAVE BEEN PAYING MORE ATTENTION," — AS USUAL, SHE IS QUICK TO BLAME HERSELF; TRULY OBLIVIOUS THAT HE WAS THE INSTIGATOR — "PLEASE FORGIVE ME." SHE MURMURS, A DOCILE SMILE TIMOROUSLY CURLING THE CORNERS OF A LISTLESS MOUTH, AS THE PALLID AMETHYST OF HER GAZE TENTATIVELY DRAWS FROM THE BEGUILING VASCILLATION OF HIS WINGS SO THAT THEIR EYES MAY MEET. HER EYES DO NOT DAZZLE AS HIS, THOUGH, THEIR CERULEAN LENSES MAGNIFIED BY BLUE LIGHT — THEY SIMPLY SMOLDER APATHETICALLY, BLEACHED BY SORROW.

HIS AURA IS ONLY FURTHERED LESSENED BY THE SLENDER, MINUSCULE COMPANION WHICH OBEDIENTLY CURLS ASIDE HIS FEET. IT IS ALMOST ENOUGH TO COERCE A GENUINE SMILE, FOR THE COMICALITY OF THEIR SIZE DIFFERENCE WAS TRULY ENDEARING — THOUGH SHE IS REVERENTIALLY IMPASSIVE IN HIS ALMOST DUTIFUL INTRODUCTIONS. "IT IS A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU BOTH," — AND SHE IS HONEST, THOUGH UNABLE TO HIDE THE DISPASSIONATE TIMBRE OF HER LYRICAL SPEECH — "MY NAME IS REIZEND. I'M LOOKING FOR—" THOUGH SHE IS INTERRUPTED, HER GAZE STRETCHING ACROSS THE CONGESTED COPSE OF SAPPHIRE FORESTRY, AS THE LEATHERY APPENDAGES OF A DIMINUTIVE, REPTILIAN CREATURE CUT THROUGH THE LABYRINTH OF LEAVES IN SLEUTHLIKE QUIETUDE. FOR A SINGULAR, ALMOST HEART-WRENCHING MOMENT, HER PERCEPTION OF COLOR RETURNS; EVERY VERDANT PROTRUBERANCE CONCISELY BRUSHED BY SCALY WINGTIPS REBOUNDING IN VIOLET HUES. SHE ALMOST GASPS, ASTOUNDED IN THAT MOMENT THAT — HOWEVER WOEFULLY TRANSIENT — REVERBERATES IN THE ABYSMAL HOLLOW OF HER CHEST LIKE REVITALIZING THUNDER. AS QUICKLY AS IT GENERATES, HOWEVER, IT IS GONE; BUT A FLEETING, BITTERSWEET REMEMBRANCE.

SORROW MOMENTARILY TAPERS THE CORNERS OF HER EYES, THOUGH IT IS EASILY DISPELLED BY THE MESMERIC VELVET THAT ENCAPSULATES HER EARS, PERSUADING THEM TO FLICK INDIVIDUALLY AS HER GAZE IS COAXED TO THEIR NEWEST ACQUAINTANCE. ADMITTEDLY, SHE IS UNPREPARED FOR THE DAZZLING SPECIMEN THAT WOULD GREET HER VISION; A VIRGIN IN PASTELS, ROSEATE STAINING HER FLESH ALIKE WANING OILS, THE PELLUCID BRISTLES TUGGED GENTLY ACROSS HER BUXOM CANVAS. AT HER FEET, REFLECTIVE FRAGMENTS COLLECTED LIKE ANGEL DUST CASUALLY DIFFUSING FROM HER DEIFIC COMPLEXION — SHE WAS SPELLBOUND, AS THOUGH A CHILD DOE-EYED AND FASCINATED BY THE RESONANT PLATES OF A DISCO BALL. HER NAME WAS IRONIC, THOUGH MERITED, GIVEN HER LUSTROUSLY RENDERED COUNTENACE. EVEN IN SUCH BREVITY, SHE WAS MANIFESTLY MEMORABLE. "REIZEND," SHE WOULD MIMIC, SOFTLY, HER LIPS TREMBLING UPON THE SURMOUNTING DESIRE TO FINISH HER PREVIOUSLY — THOUGH NOT UNPLEASANTLY — INTERRUPTED SENTENCE. SHE WISHED SO ARDENTLY TO BE REUNITED WITH HER BRETHREN; TO FONDLY, SAVORINGLY STROKE HER CHEEK ALONG THE CONGRUOUS TANGLES OF MIDAS' MANE, TO BEG FOR HIS CLEMENCY.

STILL, SHE WOULD BE DENIED; WORDS UPON HER TONGUE DISSIPATING TO THE LUBRICIOUS CAPTIVITY OF HER NARROWLY FRAGILE THROAT. OUT OF NOWHERE, SHE BOUNDED — AN IVORY BUTTERFLY, GLEEFULLY GALLIVANTING — THE FRIABLE TAPESTRY OF HER PORCELAIN SKIN TATTERED BY PUTRESCENT LESIONS. HER VIGOROUS ADOLESCENCE REMAINS INTACT, THOUGH REIZEND IS THE VERY VISAGE OF FRETFULNESS. "OH MY SWEET DARLING, WHAT ARE THOSE…?" HER SONGBIRD VOICE TRAILS DISTRACTEDLY, AS DISPIRITED, LILAC LENSES METICULOUSLY BROWSE THE YOUTHFUL SPARSITY OF HER SUFFERING BODY. OH, THE PAIN SHE MUST HAVE BEEN IN! "OH MY DEAR, LET ME HELP—" SHE BEGAN, HER FORELEG STRETCHING OUT IN MITIGATED ADVANCEMENT, THOUGH THE DAINTINESS OF HER SYLLABLES ARE OVERPOWERED; SUBDUED UNDER THE GALLANT BARITONE OF AN ADMITTEDLY ROBUST INDIVIDUAL, WHOM — UNLIKE THE CALLOW, MIDNIGHT STALLION — ALLURED WITH A VENERABLE, EXPERIENCED VIRILITY. HE WAS HANDSOME; HIS COMPOSITION SEEMINGLY DERIVITIVE OF A RENOWNED, ROMANIC ARTISTE; A SCULPTED BROW HEAVY OVER AMIABLE AZURE, AND A SLOPING, AUTHORITATIVE MIEN. IN COMPARISON, SHE IMAGINED THAT LIKE CALEB AND HIS CANINE COMPANION; THEY WOULD HAVE APPEARED SIMILAR STANDING SIDE BY SIDE.

SHE ENSNARED HIS GAZE FOR A MOMENT, SINGULAR HUES ADMIXING MUCH LIKE AN EMBRACE — "REIZEND," SHE WOULD ANSWER, QUIETLY, THE BLOOM OF A SMILE THREATENING TO OVERCOME THE FEMININE MARGIN OF HER GLABROUS MUZZLE, THOUGH THE FLORET IS MALNOURISHED AND QUICKLY WITHERS. NOW THAT THERE SEEMED TO BE AN APPEASING PAUSE, SHE UTILIZED THE SILENCE TO PORTRAY HER AVIDITY: "It has been a pleasure to meet you all. HOPEFULLY I DO NOT DISAPPOINT ANY OF YOU IN SAYING THAT I ALREADY HAVE A HOME. I'M ON MY WAY BACK TO THE FALLS TO REUNITE WITH MIDAS," SHE SAYS SMOOTHLY, "I'M SURE UNDER HIS RULE THE FALLS HAVE ONLY GROWN IN MAGNIFICENCE." — A SHEEN OF AMUSEMENT, A SIMPER WHICH DOES NOT BEFALL LIPS, BUT WRINKLES THE CORNERS OF HER FARAWAY GAZE, AS THOUGH SHE HAD SUDDENLY RECOLLECTED A FOND MEMORY.

… IF ONLY SHE KNEW THE DEVASTATION THAT WAS ABOUT TO COME.