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Pale as snow, standing there frozen was the ivory bun. Her ears lowered, hands in the air and tail between her legs; she tried to show submission to the jumpy little creature infront of her. Arwen’s body language was not picked up as a threat or that of submission, quite opposite – the little chirop infront of her saw it as an invitation to play. The little imp continued to bounce, flapping it’s wings to try and signal the invitation to play.Arwen swallowed. She hesitantly ...

The air’s dampness did not compare to the soiled ground. Perhaps the mud painting the pink succubun’s shoes were to earn the respect she wanted. It was a bad meeting spot, the kind of place you’d expect to die in a horror movie. Clutching her hands together, Satin continued forward. Mud and chillness was something she would be forced to deal with. She didn’t want to run from this opportunity, not after Jackal had made her t...