The kids were a year old -- the realisation hitting Fallon like a bag of bricks, leaving the Salem woman to wonder where the time had gone.

It seemed like only months ago that they had been romping about Lorien as chubby little balls of fur, Fallon chasing after them, sore and tired but doting all the same. Motherhood had certainly shifted her priorities, their safety at the fore of her mind at all times. Though she yearns for adventure and for spontaneity, Fallon knows that she could never her kids nor her husband.

Drifting through the Chambers, the grey figurine searches for crystals for each of her kids -- observing the gems and attempting to find ones that best suited each of her offspring. It would be a gift for their birthday, something for them to keep and be reminded of their upbringing, of their family. She drifts from wall to wall, her bright pink gaze fixed to the walls and the floor as she searches in the dead of night.

@Violarum

Violarum didn't like complexity of any kind, and he didn't like the fact that @Fallon's scent gave him every innocent desire to pursue, unreserved; but something weird in his brain made him hesitate. Was she still upset with him? Would seeking her out lead the male to trip up yet again, in a way that might strain their relationship?

However, as was the beauty of his mind, the clay King cannot be bothered to ponder it for long; the raw instinct and want for her company quickly over-ruling any mental input. He loved her and wanted her just as much as he always had, and it came with such intensity that it was undeniable.

He had gathered up her scent quite some time ago, but it had taken the burly lion a good effort to truly catch her - and much to his dismay it meant traversing into the dark and dingy caverns of the Cambers. Why did he marry a woman of the shadows, when he was such a man of the sun? Opposites attract!

"Come here," he grumbled blindly into the dark, paw sweeping eagerly, clumsily across the rocky floor, "I want you." _code

She has missed the way he appears from seemingly nowhere, the shadow to her shadow. Fallon supposes the break and the distance has helped soothe her heart, ground her and remind her of what was important. But none of this had transpired for any sort of distaste or dislike of her husband -- she missed him, missed how things used to be. So when @Violarum appears behind her in Grimoire's Labyrinth, the Lorien Noble is pleasantly surprised.

By now her eyes have adjusted but it would appear that her husband was yet to, speaking bluntly of his desires (as he always did). Seeing an opportunity, Fallon leaps onto a reasonably sized ledge that stemmed from the rough walls of the Chambers, sitting just about eye level as she peers down from her perch. You'll have to find me first, she challenges with sultry undertones, wondering how quickly he might be able to track her down.

Through the darkness he stumbled, her scent his guiding light; strong, familiar and homely - but taunting. Poor Violarum was feeling a little starved of his manly needs, something he had only just become aware of at the provocative invitation of her words, gliding seamlessly through the caverns.

Well, Vio would expect no less - @Fallon loved a game, and so did he. Yet, this was not one he was particularly good at, though the low growl that came from deep within his breast was awkwardly intermingled with a happy purr; suggesting the blind man was just as delighted as he was frustrated.

Had it not been for the desperate fanning of his whiskers he might have bumped head-first into the wall, but instead he catches the clumsy fall of his footwork just moments in time; creating an echo of sliding rocks and dirt. Through the graceless snuffing and seeking of her scent, the man shuffled eagerly along the wall, muzzle outreached.

Perhaps, if Fallon remained where she had perched, his whiskers would eventually come to pass the velvet of her toes. _code

Fallon watches his plight in silence though the temptation to chuckle at his clumsy footwork nearly becomes too much for the Lorien Noble. Handsome as he was, being agile certainly didn't come easily to her husband -- something that she would keep to herself, this imagery one that softens her at the edges. He whuffs along the walls, soft velvety nose dragging along the Chambers as he nears her position.

Her rear lifts in the air, tail a flag behind her as Fallon readies herself to pounce. As his whiskers tickle at her toes, she strikes -- jumping from her ledge and on top of @Violarum, hoping to land square on his backside, forelimbs wrapped about his broad ribcage as he buries her face into his mane. It has been a while since the two have engaged in play -- Fallon had hardly been in the mood when Vera had been missing.

And Violarum had recently gone through troubles with his best friend. For nearly half a year, they had lived together but separate -- or so she had felt. Right now was as normal as she felt, reminiscent of the very first months that they had first encountered one another. It fills her heart with warmth, her cheeks flushed with hope.

There was a quiet shift in the darkness; silent, but a discernable change in the air. Violarum was not a man of anticipation, and yet he knew his wife well enough to know when she was planning a stealth attack. It seemed in the very moment his whiskers brushed something warm and squishy, his eyes adjusted just enough to catch the overhead whisp of pale flashing through the stagnant air.

In barely a breath he is assaulted; tackled into instantaneous loss of balance as his athletic mate crashes down upon him with surprising elegance. Like a tiny kitten she clings, the familiarity of her behavior doing all kinds of things to fill any voids that might exist within his heart, heat flushing eagerly to his extremities.

With a lowly growl his instinct is to brace, and he does for such a fleeting time; feeling the weight of her upon his spine and taking a good moment to show off his strength, sure to impress her. Though he cannot deny the unfiltered urge to play that bubbles so effortlessly beneath umber skin. So, he drops in a dramatic snarl, seeking to loll onto his side so as to try and squash half of @Fallon; his skull reaching awkwardly around to try and catch her muzzle where it had rested in his mane. _code

He stumbles initially from impact though he steadies soon enough, a testament to his muscular brute strength that Fallon still admired from afar. Her teeth attempt to sink into where she supposes the scruff of his neck might be -- a cheeky attempt at role reversal, doing as the men do when it was that time. Of course her mouth is simply full of his mane but she continues to burrow -- gentle in her grip but determined nevertheless. It wasn't so bad being on top -- maybe she could get used to this.

@Violarum rolls then, onto his side so that he had her pinned to the cold floor of the Chambers. With her free leg, Fallon attempts to kick gently at his sides and her bites become less to hold but more to impart her affections onto the curve of his jaw, nibbling and chewing. You should give up now, she murmurs into his nearest ear, rubbing her cheek against his mane, you're mine. Well, sort of. Technically, he had her pinned down but there was no need to get into the details.

Through the sensation of her efforts it quickly becomes clear he will not succeed in finding her lips; instead leaving his head craned towards her with a feigned snap of his jaws, playful but lazy as they happily rested to a close, lulled into bliss by the tender chew upon his nape. His skin bristled happily beneath her touch, quite enjoying being the center of her attention, his mind washed clean of any prior worries.

Though the kicking of @Fallon's slender limbs might have proven a little ticklish, Violarum is mostly unflappable, and they instead serve as a reminder of her closeness; his mind imagining the soft, pale of her underbelly squashed against his upper hip. Delightful. He had a bit of an obsession with that snow-white underbelly of hers, taking to it particularly when it was devoid of the usual mud; so his brain loiters there for a quiet moment, as she swept her cheek across his mane and whispered sweet nothings into his ears.

Love.

"Hm, maybe," he grumbled almost sleepily, but truly just intoxicated by the cuddle-fest. Eventually he shifted, when it seemed like he never would, trying to entirely roll into her so he might place them belly to belly (hopefully without causing her smooshed limb any harm). He would shimmy his way awkwardly downward with a hefty groan, seeking to nuzzle rather forcefully under pale jaw, intending to embrace the pulse of her throat in tenderly executed jaws.

A sturdy hind limb, heavy with the weight of thigh-muscle, would contrast such carefulness and seek to thump inelegantly up over her hip. Captured? _code

She can feel the brunt of his weight relax into her, Violarum a soft puddle in her embrace. Fallon too, finds herself at ease -- the anxiety that has riddled her system forgotten and an easiness blanketing the pair as they enjoy each other's company.

She begins to bathe him them, allowing her tongue to brush across his brow as the grey figurine settles into a rhythm. What began as a wrestling match has lost its edge and it now becomes an outlet for their craving for physical intimacy, little said between the pair as they relish in each other's touch.

He shifts, Fallon pulling back to allow @Violarum to twist so that they now face one another though he burrows himself deep against her neck, his jaws seeking purchase on her skin. She tilts her head downwards, allowing her chin to rests against his eyes even as he weighs her down with his leg.

A content sigh escapes her nose as she breathes in his scent deeply, intoxicated in the way he smelt of fresh rain on grass -- earthy undertones that suited every aspect of the man. Happy Birthday, she wishes him softly, mumbled against his skull as they lay there together.

It didn't matter now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, their ruby glow buried behind the heavy and contented fall of his lids; shutting off a sense that seemed an unnecessary distraction within the raw bliss of the moment. He could have lain there with her forever, first lost is the rhythmical lap of her tongue against his forehead, and then willingly absorbed by the resting of her chin against his eyes - and the way the heat of her throat pulsed so delicately against his tongue.

@Fallon's words are low and calming, but a reminder of their time together and how it had flown. Yes, that had happened. He had gotten older. Sadly, their last few months had not been the usual, with distractions from outside their relationships - kids and domestics would do that. Yet Violarum is a man of the present, and his mind doesn't wander down that lonelier road, instead committed entirely to their tightly-knit smooch-session.

A purr began, rumbling his tongue against her throat for a good few moments, before tugging back just enough to talk. "Stronger now," he confirms, finally at the age he had envied of his rivals; no longer able to use his youth an any excuse for physical failure. Initially it is an innocent observation, his eyes still shut and his mind still light and clear, but there builds something within him that longs for more than sinless cuddles.

"Want to see?" _code