Hey, Mori!

[Wyborn]

The sun beat down, heat warping the entirety of the horizon. The day was almost oppressively hot no matter where you stood; but Wyborn sat, and more than that he sat in the shade, where the breeze was cool enough to actually be appreciated.

A single tree stood in the middle of an almost endless field of grass, the only movement there caused by the winds. The leaves rustled in that way only green, healthy leaves do; it would take several more days of dry weather before they felt the effects. Wyborn reflected on this, but did not particularly care. The sound quieted his mind.

He wore his robes again, and a wide-brimmed hat which was pulled down over his eyes. His back rested against the tree's massive trunk, and he placed one ankle on top of the other. Trying to relax, he found his head tilting forward, and the jerking motion of restoring it to an upright position irked him. After three occurrences in as many minutes he spat to the side, abandoning any precept of decorum, and lay himself on the ground next to the trunk. His hat rested next to him and one arm was thrown over his eyes, and he sighed, and he slept.

The wind carried the scent of another arrival, but he did not know and would not have cared anyway. The tension left his muscles, and he sank into darkness as the wind blew through the leaves.

OoC: What do you say? Got room for another little tussle? Care to test if I can match your character? If you'd like, I'd be glad to duel you on KAF in addition to here, once this fight is done.

I wouldn't worry about a post limit; this won't get past eight posts from the both of us anyway, and if it does it would be a shame to stop. -OoC

[Mori]

The elegant smell of perfume wafted through the air as a figure in a black robe with red clouds surveyed the lone tree. The man beneath it either asleep or playing possum, either way the person in black would find out. The straw hat and paper streamers hid a feminine face that had only one unsightly mark, a scar running down the right eye and onto the right cheek.

'Sleeping here...... it's begging for someone to murder them.'

No sound was made as she looked down on the figure. Kneeling down she out stretched her hand and held it above the mans throat. She smiled as she quickly jabbed her hand down onto his neck and clasped her fingers closed. Something moved against his Adams apple, the feeling like that of a tongue.

The feeling of teeth on his neck and a tongue, a mouth within the womans palm. She smiled under her straw hat as she she squeezed harder. the smell of perfume lingering into the mans nostrils as she smiled. Her fingers pressed against his arteries trying to cut off the blood flow as her palm pressed against his airway.

The mans arm shifted and one of his eyes shot open glaring at the woman. The only thing visible beneath the shadow of the hat was her brilliant smile.

[Wyborn]

Wyborn stirred in his sleep at the touch of the hand. There was a moment where it touched without choking him, where tongue met flesh and his sleeping mind went to other places.

"You're affectionate today, sweetheart," is what he tried to say. What came out was something more akin to "Ghak! Ghhhhk!"

All right, then, he realized that was not a mouth at his neck - except that it was, but in any case it did not belong to whoever it needed to belong to, and apparently this mouth had fingers. It occurred to him that he was probably dreaming, if he rolled over it would be fine, but he could feel his throat constricted and the ungentle beating of his heart in his neck. He wasn't dreaming, he guessed, but he really didn't want to see whatever had a hold of him.

Keep it cool. Just look, it'll be no big deal...

He shifted his arm, not as calmly as he could have because now his head was swimming, and opened one eye as lazily as he was capable of.

What met his eyes did nothing to alleviate his sense of strangeness. And he was still being licked, and unless he was badly mistaken chewed on. The woman above him had come to kill him for...some reason, he couldn't imagine what, but she had an odd way of going about it. She had left his hands free, wasn't trying to restrain him in any way except for the hold on his neck, and she was licking him with a mouth in her palm.

All right, bitch, too freaky for me.

His fist came up and hit her jaw with a burst of light, snapping her head around and sending a spray of blood and teeth in the air. Her grip was loosened, and with his mind he shoved her and she was sent flailing backwards, landing unceremoniously outside of the shade of the tree.

Wyborn rose to his feet, wiping the drool from his neck with his sleeve.

"God almighty, with my luck you've got the hepatitis or something....all right, get up so I can kick in your face."

[Wyborn]

Just bumping this up for ya buddy.

[Wyborn]

Still waitin', man.

[Wyborn]

Dragging this up from the depths.

The lack of activity will be remedied.