Georgie
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It should have insulted her - would have, if she’d been anything but slightly starstruck. The sandy clearing had its own lusty perfume, definitely not that of a pack. This was a breeding ground, to be blunt. Cold Summers. For a swift moment, Georgie saw with wonder a future that appeared to be unfolding itself at her feet like a luxurious landscape. In her mind’s eye, it was a place where her dancer’s form, bathed in russet, would not stand out as an oddity, but the silver lining of beauty; she saw royalty as if it were something tangible, decorated in crystal light and ancient diamonds; she saw them too, so incredibly vivid - their little paws pattered and skidded in soft grass, tiny ears perked in happy eagerness. It was the apple from the garden of eden … and Georgie was already hopelessly choking on the poisoned juice.
All of her russet companion’s apologetic awkwardness was lost on her - the living angel saw none of the wailing sirens, her eyes were filled with a dream. It was ironic really. Lengthy limbs moved lightly, closing the space. By the time Akuji’s maw flickered in smile, she was close enough to smell his colone - and surely he could taste her taunting perfume. Words scattered away from Georgie’s pink tongue. To her, they had no power here, as her body weaved itself closer to Akuji - enough of a language in itself. There was greed in the way she brushed up against the sire’s throat, allowing her spine to press into his neck. It was a vicious hunger - one that she hadn’t felt before. Her light paws shifted in the sandy floor, claws tensed and unconsciously craving something to resist them. And in the way only Georgie ever had - when her large butterfly-like ears flattened against her wanting skull and an endearing shiver ran through her stomach to her abdomen - endearing charm seemed to sparkle as it caught the light.
Her young body twisted and tensed from a desire - so sudden and hazing that she wasn’t prepared - Georgie stood facing Akuji. She wasn’t shy to find his eyes, just as she loved openly, she held herself honest. But she was still a lady - young but still proud - so as etiquette might have told her once, the young girl back away, her form soon enveloped by the shadows of an overhanging den. It was comfortable here, warm and dry - the enclosed space seemed more like an earthen embrace than a cage.
In the dark, her large eyes wide, Georgie sighed and whispered, Carefully, Akuji.
Not caring if she was heard or not.
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Georgie .::. Duchess .::. Unchained .::. Pack-less .::. Pup-less .::. Soare
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