“Oomph!” It was a faint and pained cry that emitted from the delicate maw of the obsidian princess as she tumbled onto her side. Persephone had no concept of exactly how long she had been asleep; all she knew was that whenever her stunning spheres of brilliant blue flung open from the sudden impact, they were met instantaneously with darkness. And then they finally focused, the tiredness wearing away from them so that she could see clearly through the pale light that cast from the moon. Straightaway, her spheres connected to the darker blue ones of the brute. The male, quite literally, had stars in his eyes, and Persephone found her voice softly catching in her throat as she peered into them, her own lighter blue hues widened and alert. They were absolutely gorgeous; his dark and rich spheres seemingly echoing the night sky that towered above the couple, inhabited as well by miniscule white flecks that seemed themselves to mirror small constellations.

She remained there, still laid out upon her side, frozen into place as she observed them. And then the spell that had cast upon her was broken, the larger male scrambling to stand upon his pillars and shattering the contact that she was making with them. She shook her cranium, her dainty silhouette remaining sprawled out for a moment longer as regained her composure, the positioning of her perfect framing reflecting the image of a goddess, and then she finally rolled back upon her shadowed paws, pushing her shapely silhouette from the earth as well. “It’s quite alright… I’m perfectly fine,” the princess purred in soft and sweet vocals. Persephone’s ebony kissers curved into a gentle, reassuring smile; she had even emitted a faint giggle between her words. However, these expressions became replaced quickly with a faint frown. “What about you, handsome? You seem to have hit pretty hard.”

Her delicate bodice circled the male, encompassing his larger silhouette loosely as she surveyed him for any sign of injury. He was extremely attractive, and it was only while considering his appearance that she recognized the scar along his heavenly, starry hue, causing Persephone to wonder briefly about what had caused it. Her own frame was untouched, untainted by any wound, which was shocking considering what she had endured during her time with Macurio. She was a pure creature; she could not imagine what kind of maliciousness had spawned such scars along the brute. It pained her to even think of as her small crown cocked gently to the side, her astonishing optics studying his attractive façade as she awaited his answer.