All welcome!

The summer months seemed to be rolling in quicker than she remembered. The woman found the warmth irritating and she wondered just how long it would take for it to go away. The woman much preferred the bitter chill of the harsh winter winds, the way it prickled against her fur and stung her nostrils. Perhaps it was the bitter winter chill that made her feel at home when she was away from the Cay that she had seemingly clung to for all these years.

Reli was safely tucked away in the confinements of her den. She had left the child with enough food to keep her occupied for a few hours, whilst Cirilla went to stretch her legs and cause some sort of carnage where she could. Rosé eyes studied the changing landscapes as she found herself wandering into the uncomfortable biome of the dunes. She hated it here - the dry sand got into her paws in a way she could not explain, and it was a nightmare to get out. Wet sand was much more co-operative. With a grunt, Cirilla pushed on forward until she discovered a small cactus farm up ahead. Raising a brow with mild curiosity, the woman approached the growing plants and wondered just how dangerous they could be.

Part vampire Part warrior
Carnivore and voyeur
Amaroq feels the arid summer breeze settle like prayers against his skin. Each rolling sigh of wind entangles his long, disheveled mane; weaving warm fingertips against the flesh of his thickly-furred neck.

It is hot and sweltering. Sunbeams lance the earthen floors, bright and burning. The sands swirl beneath his long talons, his sable toes pressed to the soft, golden earth as tracks were left behind; lingering in the wake of his militant strides.

This is not the path he usually takes. He, too, prefers the winterlands; the terrains of ice and rolling hills of ivory snow. And yet, he is here, and aimlessly he wanders, following the path to anywhere.

His features were darkened by masculine apathy. There was a carelessness to his frigid expression, even as he looks to the wandering maiden swathed in taupe-shades. She seemed alone, but her appearance looked healthy.

"You lost?" He calls to her, finally, but he does not smile. All around them is a field of cacti. Such strange vegetation, one that Amaroq has never seen before till now.

@Cirilla

we all feed on tragedy,
it's like blood to a vampire

The girl did wonder just how long it would take for her isolation to be interrupted by the presence of another. It seemed within Amaryllis that no matter how hard any lion tried, it was almost impossible to remain alone for more than minutes - or, if particularly lucky, hours - at a time. The Sigrún had been studying one of the cacti when @Amaroq finally approached. She had not noticed him initially, nor heard him draw near - perhaps it was the bright red fur, or the irritating feeling of the sand, that distracted the striped lioness from noticing his arrival. It was his voice that snapped the woman away from the plant and directly onto the man.

"You lost?" He asks, and for a brief moment, Cirilla contemplates her answer. No. She replies without a breath or a twitch of a whisker, rosé eyes subtly studying the man that stood before her. Are you? She retaliates, an edge of unease bubbling up in her chest which seems to surface only in the flick of her tail tip.

Part vampire Part warrior
Carnivore and voyeur
we all feed on tragedy,
it's like blood to a vampire

Amaroq makes no move to close the distance between them. He stands in the bright sunlight, a single ear flicking towards the woman to catch the blunt caress of her words. She didn't seem unfriendly, but there was something unnerving in the way she spoke. The soldier found it eerie almost, something mysterious about her, that he couldn't quite place or immediately decipher.

Wordlessly, Amaroq straightens his physique, feeling the brazen sunlight touch his spine, feeling the sands swirl and sink beneath his long, obsidian talons as he tapped at the golden earth beneath his feet. He looks back at her, the warm breath leaving his lips in low, gruff tones.

"No," Not lost.

"This is my first time exploring this place."

@Cirilla

The bright sunlight that seemed to burn down upon the pair only seemed to get brighter the more than Cirilla studied the rather... red man. She had never seen such a man like him before, and yet here he was - stood in front of her, bright as day. A single ear flicked as he spoke. See anything interesting in your exploration? She asks, nodding her head to the cactus farm that lay behind them both. Turning her head, she looked at one of the larger ones. I heard they're good for the soul. If you eat them. The woman remarks with another flick of her ear.

Part vampire Part warrior
Carnivore and voyeur
we all feed on tragedy,
it's like blood to a vampire

His expression remains still, motionless. Amaroq falls to a silence, listening instead as the woman speaks. The heat is so unnervingly warm, he is only half paying attention, but he makes the effort to seem somewhat curious of their surroundings. "Nothing interesting, no," It is all the red soldier says, his breath escaping his lips in a panting whisper, his voice deep and husky.

"Just lots of sand."

For awhile, he studies her appearance. She is beautiful to the eye, with her curvaceous earthen curves and eyes as bright and glowing as amethyst gemstones. He takes a step closer, his curiosity of her deepening, although he still remains polite and respectful, keeping his distance. Under normal circumstances, her comment of cacti would have amused him; but he says nothing, only turns his gaze fully towards her.

"I personally prefer the colder climates. The heat is almost overwhelming."

@Cirilla

The woman had always had an interest in the plant life of Amaryllis. The flora and fauna seemed to be endless, the supply going on for an eternity, combined with endless possibilities if you were to just... mix it right. She'd already got one poison under her belt and the Sigrún woman wanted more - this was undeniable, and she wondered just how long it would take her to find her next victim.

It seemed, though, that @Amaroq would not be her next poison adventure, as he dismissed her comment on the cacti completely. Rosé eyes turn back to look at the handsome figure of red that lay before her, and something in her mind switches.

He claims he has found nothing more than just sand, and she smirks. That's a shame. The woman comments coolly, observing as he takes a simple step toward her. This was her sign, her cue - and so Cirilla breaks her stance and moves closer to Amaroq with no more than the parting of sand beneath her to signal the movement.

With an effortless movement, her frame finds itself circling around the larger male, her tail eagerly dancing upon his flank as she moves round him. Overwhelming, hm? She coos, watching his expression carefully.

Part vampire Part warrior
Carnivore and voyeur
we all feed on tragedy,
it's like blood to a vampire

Well-versed in his wintry indifference, the soldier remains poised, calm, even as the woman exchanges further words with him and begins to circle his physique. He can feel the gentle whip of her dancing tail-tip, the near-subtle caress brushing down his toned flank; causing an involuntary ripple to shift down his muscular back and thigh.

He inhales, exhales. Her. The dancing caress of the arid breeze brings her fragrance closer to him. He takes her in, inhaling and exhaling once more; studying her, analyzing her. His breath escapes his lips, tangled mist heavy with suspire; his jaws slightly parted to draw her in. Taste her. Like another hit.

She moves, mysteriously. Almost coy. Was that dare in her voice? Was there challenge in her circling steps? Amaroq couldn't entirely tell, but he is watchful and observant, assessing her, closely.

She reveals nothing, gives him nothing. Only taunting touches, only haunting words. For a moment, he follows her with his icy gaze, chasing her movements slowly with his subtle side-ways glance, before he follows the noise of paws-over-sand with a backward, curving ear. The swirling of granules, shifting beneath her delicate feet. The gentle rise and fall of her breast.

No, the soldier does not move. He does not twitch; his gaze were as unwavering as a steady, steel sword.

"No," He whispers darkly in return, his voice rising with the heat of the sun. "What's shame, is you not giving me your name, yet," He taunts, devilishly. This time turning to face her, to better view her in all her feminine, amethyst-eyed glory.

"Amaroq," He states, icly.

"My name is Amaroq."

@Cirilla

Her tail dances eagerly along the red man, and she delights in being mysterious. Why shouldn't she? It was fun, exhilarating, and gave her the confidence boost she needed.

His voice whispers a simple no and she smirks. His next comment takes her a little by surprise, and she stops along his right side, tail moving away to return to her haunches. Cirilla. Yours? She asks, moving now to stand in front of him with a smirk that was coy, teasing, inviting.

A man like you should not be alone. Are you alone, Amaroq? She asks after he reveals his name. A pretty name for such a pretty, pretty boy.

From the flames
of the fire
i feel you
c r a w l i n g

There was something breathless about her, something breathtaking - deep and mysterious; she'd dance against his form and he'd follow her with his gaze, as she moved gracefully around him. The sunlight shone bright against her flesh. Her skin suddenly appeared like gold beneath the naked sunlight, and her eyes were glinting as sharp and as dangerous as pink diamonds.

Serpentine, effortlessly female, he'd watch with curious eyes as she continued to sing those haunting whispers. He has half the nerve to close the distance between them, to breathe a fiery want against her own supple flesh. Still, he remains outwardly cool, collected, unwilling to reveal any sign of weakness.

Apart of him, however, yearned to find out more about her, to undress her soul; to pull her heart apart, piece by piece, and put it back together again. Suddenly, there was a tense, rigid feeling crawling all over him.

The fiery, wrathful heat would slide down his muscular back, his blue eye now ablaze with their impassioned ferocity. His focus becoming sharper - keen, with a new kind of burning, snarling flame. He feels hot, suddenly; and not because of the intense sunlight, but because of her. Hot and bothered.

Heat, desire, want, lust. Whatever sensations Amaroq was feeling, he'd keep it locked and hidden. Oh, but she teased, mocked, and a dark smirk would curl his lips.

"I'm not alone," He breathes at last, taking a step forward, drinking in her invitation with a ghost-snarl. "You are here," He taunts back, taking yet another step forward, until his breath is falling hot upon her flesh.

@Cirilla