In her dream, Eithne had been straddling the mage, her hands locked around his neck. He had been one of the ones that had fought back, had made her work for it, back in the time when she had been a mage-hunter. Her mind had taken her back to that night, how delightfully easy it had been to get the man to trust her in a bar, to whisper sweet nothings in his ear -- everyone had a weakness, and she had used her skills to glean that he was there to find a willing partner for the night.
It had been so easy to gain trust, to get him to let her near, and the dream excited her, the memory should have been a night mare, it was a nightmare -- she didn't kill any more, not where she could help it, but she had been so excited that night, so very very excited to watch the life bleed out of the man's eyes as she had locked her hands around his neck, had felt the hyoid bone in his neck snap like a twig, had flushed in the knowledge that her hands were the ones that were making the world a better, safer place.
In her nightmare though, the face shifted, contorted into Marcel's face. The setting was wrong, they had been in Orlais.. had been tracking down the infected, something he had talked her into. She wouldn't have taken the infected to be healed, a swift death was the best when it came to dealing with those infected, at least in her mind. So when she felt his hyoid bone snap in her hands, in her dream, she had startled awake, and immediately ashamed.
Because there, at their camp fire, in the middle of the night, she was straddling him, with her hands around his neck, her body trembling, and her brow sweat drenched, eyes panicked as she understood what was about to happen.
It had been so easy to gain trust, to get him to let her near, and the dream excited her, the memory should have been a night mare, it was a nightmare -- she didn't kill any more, not where she could help it, but she had been so excited that night, so very very excited to watch the life bleed out of the man's eyes as she had locked her hands around his neck, had felt the hyoid bone in his neck snap like a twig, had flushed in the knowledge that her hands were the ones that were making the world a better, safer place.
In her nightmare though, the face shifted, contorted into Marcel's face. The setting was wrong, they had been in Orlais.. had been tracking down the infected, something he had talked her into. She wouldn't have taken the infected to be healed, a swift death was the best when it came to dealing with those infected, at least in her mind. So when she felt his hyoid bone snap in her hands, in her dream, she had startled awake, and immediately ashamed.
Because there, at their camp fire, in the middle of the night, she was straddling him, with her hands around his neck, her body trembling, and her brow sweat drenched, eyes panicked as she understood what was about to happen.
Which will scare you the least.. that I was dreaming about a past kill, or that I want you to roughly fuck me right here, right now, with some light breath play?
06-21-2024, 02:58 PM
