(no subject)
The moon is waxing towards full.
Beneath that bright light, in the dark, Moon dances, a bright beam of whiteness in the night. Her wolves watch from the woods, ever her guardians, as she dances. She makes her own music, singing softly, the words an ancient language no one speaks but those who have forgotten they ever spoke it.
Her bare feet move nimbly, her motions graceful and elegant, and she never minds an audience.
[OOC: Warnings for smuttiness in the Jason thread... which I don't think anyone really needed to be warned about. >.> :D?]
Beneath that bright light, in the dark, Moon dances, a bright beam of whiteness in the night. Her wolves watch from the woods, ever her guardians, as she dances. She makes her own music, singing softly, the words an ancient language no one speaks but those who have forgotten they ever spoke it.
Her bare feet move nimbly, her motions graceful and elegant, and she never minds an audience.
[OOC: Warnings for smuttiness in the Jason thread... which I don't think anyone really needed to be warned about. >.> :D?]