Beltane could not deny it: she had a fierce need to find herself closer to him, and she did not give much hesitation in taking that liberty. She tested the waters with a shuffle closer and when he did not revoke his company or hiss in response, she moved heartily across until she felt his body beside hers. While she was warm and practically quivering with energy, his presence was colder, quieter, less a heartbeat and more a whisper. It had its allure, though Beltane was likely one of few who could feel that allure. Death was the fear of many, after all, but Beltane had not learned that fear. She had seen Thoth's, after all, and yet she knew he had only left one plane to join another. Others did not see it. Others did not hear it like she.
He did not seem to reject the idea entirely and so, she exhaled deeply and placed her head atop his shoulder. She breathed in, felt his fur against her face and his scent deep within her. And then he moved, though she wondered on whose command - hers or his? But she did not deny it. She moved with him, two pale shadows, a ghost and a woman desperate to love one.