Literature
Blood and Thunder: Santinalia
Her fingers, rough from years of sword fighting, gently caress the long, lanky body beside her. Her touch travels from freckle to freckle, sliding over smooth flesh marred occasionaly by scars from darkspawn claws.
He shifts slightly, skin rippling with goosebumps as her nails skim down his spine. This causes her full lips to stretch into a smile, Maeve leaning forward to kiss his shoulder blade.
The pale blue sky visible from her bedroom window is clouding up, snow predicted to fall by evening. All the signs of a gloomy day surround her, but she ignores the feeling of melancholy warring with her newfound joy. Today she will abandon sorro
