Bough -- Logs

Mikal's ordinarily stormy-gray eyes widen slightly in interest at Jareth's pronouncement; she has no idea that right now her eyes are huge and dark like the night sky spangled with stars. She breaths softly, "Another?! How wonderful! Perhaps there are bright ladies waiting to speak with Wolf and Bear too?"

Jareth reaches up to touch Mikal's cheek with a smile, "Perhaps. Though I would suspect there might be a more masculine deity waiting for Norris."

Mikal nods thoughtfully at that -- then her gaze sharpens and she murmurs, "Might want to lay down for a bit, mon chat beau? Let the me integrate smoothly in your head?"

Jareth smiles almost wickedly and reaches for Mikal again, "Lay down with me, ma belle?"

As Jareth is reaching for her, the rakshasi quietly leave the pavilion and the tall, imposing form of Ravana enters.

Mikal grins ruefully, stretching out next to him. Her voice is still slightly slurry from the amount of energy bottled tightly up inside her, "Awright, bu' I can't give you another holy me right this minute, sweet chat." She blinks, twitching around reflexively at the motions -- then she smiles up at the rakshasa lord, leaning back on one hand so she can see his face, "Ravana Lord! Thanks f' your help getting Cat here. Everything good?"

Mikal is rather casually draped in the silken covering, one ankletted leg extended out from under it, and her jewelry-graced arms covered with delicate henna patterns. The swirling, colorful bindi outline her smooth brows and curl decoratively along one cheek, outlining a dimple as she smiles.

Ravana goes to one knee beside Jareth and Mikal, smiling in a warm, wicked way. "You are more than welcome, and things are wonderful, Ninshubur. The libations will be more than sufficient."

Mikal sighs in relief at that, sitting up more normally now she doesn't have to crane her head back so far. She crosses her legs comfortably and flips one end of the silken drape back over her shoulder to cover her front. "That's a relief to hear." She tilts her head thoughtfully at the rakshasa, completely unaware of the effect she currently has on those near her, and adds curiously, "Will you stop by 'gain once you've all had some?"

Ravana reaches across to carefully settle the dupatta into lovely folds across Mikal's body, "Oh, I certainly plan on coming back, lovely one. Please, relax and rest yourself until I return.." Jareth is smiling lazily up at the rakshasa.

Mikal looks down a bit surprisedly as Ravana reaches for her, and watches with slightly tipsy interest as the rakshasa re-arranges the dupatta. She smiles up at him when he's done, "All right! Have fun!" as she tries to keep from restlessly pacing. She feels like she's full of bees or something! -all buzzing madly around inside her, demanding to be released.

Ravana laughs warmly and stands just as gracefully as he knelt and ducks out of the pavilion, head raised and eyes flashing. He knows what he's looking at when he sees Mikal and he is quite intent on coming back after the libations of the ritual have been shared.

Mikal shifts restlessly again, then smiles down at Jareth, gently brushing one hand along his forehead, "How'reya feeling, sweet Cat?"

Jareth smiles up at Mikal in return, unwittingly humming to himself and looking at her through eyes that aren't quite working normally yet. His mind is still trying to fit itself around the new knowledge that has opened inside him. "Mmmm... full. Overflowing."

Mikal nods in understanding at that, starting to restlessly plait Jareth's hair -- or at least what she can reach of it, "Yup. Yep yep, I k-know whatcha mean, sweet Cat!" She blinks as she realizes she's still nodding, and makes herself stop, looking slightly embarrassed, "Um... think I gotta bit much energy in me right now, in fac'!" She sighs amusedly at herself, adding, "Ordinarily there's either several men who need the me, or one who's destitute of civilizing knowledge! You already know a lot of them, though, so I couldn't give a bunch to you." She's not quite chattering, and she starts braiding one of the delicate gold chains she's wearing into Jareth's hair as well. Raphael is watching her with a slightly bemused, worried look.

Jareth smiles lazily and strokes one bare calf as Mikal braids his hair, watching her face as she jitters around, voice gentle as he says, "There are others you could pass the 'me' on to, beloved."

Mikal unwittingly nods several times again as she replies, "Oh, yes, I'm hoping No- er, Bear turns up! That'd help, lots!" She adds cheerfully, "He'd be properly reverent, don'tcha think? They've gotta be rev'rent or I can't give 'em the me -- otherwise they pour their energy into me and then I try to pour it back and it doesn't go into them but just out and I think it goes to my Lady of Greatest Heart so it's not like it's a waste but it's a shame because those are the guys I think don't you? the ones that need civilizing the most although now I think about it it's sort of odd that the ones that are completely primitive and wild seem to have some sort of intuitive grasp on reverence because they respond just fine to receiving the holy me like you've heard the story of Gilgamesh's best friend Enkidu right?"

Mikal's voice runs on swiftly, like the ripple of water in a fast running stream, and her hands start moving with the same quick grace.

Jareth listens to his lithe and half-wilde lover spilling out the stories and knowledge of what must be done for the me to be passed on to those that need it. His own mind is still whirling, but he has a feeling that he's seeing a little bit beneath the veil, not the silken one around her body but the one over the reality in which they've landed.

With Mikal's chattering and the occasional shared caress, time passes in a strange way. Some moments speed by like lightning and some seem to seep and trickle by like the first drips of water down an icicle in the spring. However it goes, though, it does pass and the sound of drumming and song comes to them as the ritual and sharing of the sacred fluids goes on. And then there's a quiet scratching at the door of the pavilion.

Mikal has braided Jareth's hair and her own, unbraided it, re-done Jareth's, happily run her hands all over Jareth, admired all his jewelry, examined her own with great curiosity, stacked it neatly next to their cushions, put some of it back on to play with it -- she's still incredibly restless, although it's clear she's trying hard not to be a bother to the relaxed Jareth and the worried looking Raphael. She bounces to her feet at the small sound, calling, "Enter!"

The front flap of the pavilion lifts and Ravana ducks his head to re-enter. His long black hair has been undone from his braid and it's falling down his back in ripples caused by the pattern of the plait. His smile is bright and almost seems like it should be blinding, he's radiating so much good-will and energy. There's very much of the tiger about him at the moment, his movements filled with the same formidable grace, "Ninshubur, Cat. Greetings again."

Mikal smiles, although there's less coherence to it this time -- it's like she's smiling reflexively, "Hello! Want some lassi there's plenty it's quite good nice and cold here have a drink?" She doesn't wait for an answer, instead darting lightly over to the jug and pouring some for everyone. She holds out one mug for the rakshasa and has a few gulps of her mug as well, after she sets one down next to Jareth. When she looks up and sees Ravana -- really looks at him instead of just glancing hastily around herself -- she goes still. There's a mix of awe and surprise in her voice as she murmurs, "Wha- how -- so many arms! H-how do you keep from tangling them up?!"

Ravana laughs, realizing that Mikal is seeing something of the him that is beyond the physical plane. In a playful and teasing fashion, he raises his arms, arraying them in a fanlike pattern so that the goddess-ridden girl can see all of them, "Since I have had them for many years, they don't seem much to ge tin my way." Stalking isn't quite the word to describe the way he moves as he walks across the pavilion, but it's not far off.

Mikal watches in silent, fearless interest, her gaze flicking back and forth as she studies the rippling overlay of what she can see over what she's used to seeing. She grins suddenly, her teeth a flash in the dim tent, and says, "So many heads too! I see you don't get confused by them all, though. Does it affect your hunting?" Raphael perks up suddenly, giving a soft whurf! and her wide-eyed, alien-looking gaze flicks to him instead, "Oh, yes, I'd love to!" She beams up at the rakshasa, "Wolf says we should go hunting to help me work off some of this energy would you like to or maybe we could do a battle or something interesting?"

Ravana's eyes flash happily at the thought of a hunt with the lovely Ninshubur with the energy riding her like an aura of beauty. His voice is growling slightly as he says, "Another hunt, Ninshubur? What would you hunt tonight?" He is moving toward her still, drawn by the energy and by the memory of the goddess-girl during the ritual.

Mikal shakes her head, her gaze returning to Raphael. She smiles, ruffling his ears as she thinks, and her voice slows a little, "Don't know. What's there to hunt at night?" She chuckles at Raphael, then looks up at the rakshasa and grins, "You?"

Jareth watches Ravana come in, smiling in amusement. He has been enjoying Mikal's bubbling energy and returning the attention quite happily. The bard knows what the energy coming off Ravana is and recognizes the hungry part of it quite well. The fact that Mikal has drawn the rakshasa's exclusive atetntion doesn't surprise him.

Ravana strokes his chin as he thinks, and he doesn't stop until he's standing close enough to Mikal that she'll have to tip her head back to look at his face, "Well... many of the creatures that I enjoy hunting are asleep at this time of night. I would almost tempt you to hunting elephant, but they are harder to find now."

Mikal's laugh ripples liquidly, and without thinking she reaches up and takes hold of the jeweled sash he's wearing, tugging gently downwards on it, "You're too tall! Sit or something, yes? Wolf said the most challenging hunt right now would be you, and I agree." Her grin is infectiously delighted, "Are you?"

Ravana arches a brow as Mikal takes hold of his sash and tugs on it. With any other woman, he would assume that the tug was meant to take the sash off. However, with Ninshubur, he lets himself be guided downward, folding his legs into full lotus, "Am I the most challenging hunt? Mmm... it depends on the terrain."

Mikal laughs delightedly again, reaching out cautiously -- as if she's trying to touch something she can see that isn't actually in this plane of existence, "So many things you carry! Do you have this many limbs as a tiger too? How about mountain terrain? We could do that..." Her grin gets mischievous as she meets his eyes with her own dilated, starry gaze and murmurs, "Unless you'd rather not be hunted...?"

From where he's leaning back on his elbows, Jareth finds himself grinning. Without a bit of jealousy, he considers slipping out to join the celebration and leaving Mikal alone with the lord of the rakshasa.

Ravana laughs another of those growling, inviting laughs and fans his arms so that the are around Mikal on either side, but not close enough that she would be clasped in them if they were tangible, waving them just a little to create a rippling effect, "It would depend, I believe, on what my fate would be if I were caught."

Mikal blinks and laughs softly, her attention seriously distracted by what Ravana is doing! She watches for a bit, her lips parted in a delighted smile -- then blinks again as she registers what he's asking, "Oh! Um, I don't know for sure." She thinks a bit, musing aloud, "Skinning and eating is right out, of course -- that'd be no fun. Umm..." she's silent for a few moments, considering, then shakes her head sharply once, glancing at her present pack brothers, "Any suggestions?" She grins up at the rakshasa fearlessly again, "What do you want your fate to be, rakshasa lord?"

Ravana reaches with one of his physical hands and cups Mikal's cheek, leaning toward her slowly, eyes dilated and intent, "I should hope my true fate would be to ascend eventually to Nirvana, but for tonight, I would settle for the blessing of my lady Radha..."

Mikal doesn't pull away at all -- she looks, if anything, fascinated! "Oh, do you get to reincarnate too then?"

Ravana doesn't try to kiss Mikal, instead he draws close enough o be able to breathe in the scent of her hair and skin, not actually touching her in any way, "Oh, no we don't reincarnate. But Enlightenment should be the goal of all.." When he breathes out, his mouth is within a fraction of an inch of Mikal's ear and the lord of the rakshasa is starting to wonder when she's going to bolt.

Mikal turns her head and smiles at the rakshasa, murmuring, "You want the me, don't you? I can taste your desire. Are you sure it's true desire and not lust, though?"

Ravana's eyes shine and Jareth quietly rises, smiling to himself. Mikal being able to pass the me on to Ravana, who needs the strength of it against the ARchitect's angels, wash away any last specks of hesitation and he leaves his mate with the lord of the rakshasa.

The rakshasa's many hands slide through the air around Mikal as if enjoying the feel of a fire on a chill day and his voice is soft and husky. There is desire, yes, but reverence as well, "I am sure that I feel drawn to your light like a flower turning its face to the light."

Mikal is staring with calm interest into the rakshasa's rather feline eyes, her own huge as well -- although for a different reason. She listens for his answer, clearly -- and wildly uncharacteristically! -completely unafraid of how close he is. She smiles at a sudden thought, reaching out with careful fingertips to gently touch his cheek, "Tell me, rakshasa lord, how your wife feels about your other lovers, please? I would not hurt any, if I can avoid it."

Ravana smiles and closes his eyes, nuzzling into the hair just behind Mikal's ear, breathing in the scent of her skin and the fragrant oils with which the rakshasi dressed her hair. His breath is warm and his hands are still hovering near but not on her skin, "She feels about them much as I have felt about those that have shared her bed in my absence. I am still her husband and she is still my wife."

Mikal nods thoughtfully, reassured, "I see." She giggles softly at the nuzzle, shifting sideways and pushing very gently with her fingers as she adds, "So, shall we hunt? I cannot promise a blessing from your Radha lady if you are caught, since I do not think she is currently riding me, but if you feel reverently ready for it I believe I can offer some blessing from my Lady." Her grin gets mischievous as she adds, "You mustn't make it easy, though!"

Ravana lets himself be pushed away, though he breathes in quite deeply as if to keep the scent of her with him, "I would not dream of insulting a huntress so."

Mikal beams at that, her face lighting up, "Oh, let's do it then, shall we?" She bounces excitedly on her toes, exclaiming, "Be a tiger again, please?" then blinks as her dupatta slips loose and starts to slither off her. "Oops!" She grabs it up and starts to wrap it around herself again -- then she pauses thoughtfully, staring down at it. "Should I... take a moment to change clothes?"

Ravana is already stretching as Mikal nearly loses her veil, "If only to protect your skin from the jungle, Ninshubur."

Mikal pauses to watch, her eyes shining. She steps over, still smiling, to run a hand along his sleek, brilliantly patterned fur once he's changed form. She has no idea how powerfully her allure is based on scent; she simply nods, "All right." Without really thinking about it, she's in her usual attire: soft leather boots, light cotton trousers, a short leather vest, leather wrist bands, and a headband to hold back her wildly curling, half-unbraided hair. She turns and scoops up her gorytus, then slides onto the tiger's back, stretching out with sensual luxury, "When you're ready, tiger lord!" Raphael has already bounded out of the tent, glad for a chance to really hunt again.

Ravana next breath is a hungry and appreciative growl. The scents that were lovely but subtle to his human form are deliciously intense to the tiger. He rubs his chin against Mikal's shoulder before she slings her leg over his back and then he's off. The fact that the young bard is gone flits past and he wonders if the dreamer awoke or if Ninshubur's lover has left her in the rakshasa's care on purpose. And then they are bounding around the edges of the camp, headed for deep jungle.

Mikal laughs aloud with joyous ecstasy at the feel of the powerful entity beneath her! Initially she does nothing but ride, savoring the delicious sensuality of movement and speed -- the thick, sleek fur under her hands; the hard muscles bunching and extending at the gallop where she presses close against the tiger's body; the soft thudding of his huge paws and his low, chuffing breath and the whisper and flitter of branches and leaves brushed abruptly aside; the cool, sweet-smelling night air and the taste of desire on her tongue... she's almost intoxicated all over again, and it takes her a while to realize she can actually see in the jungle around them! It's not a normal sort of seeing -- more a sighting of energy forms, like with Ravana's multi-armed and -headed shape she can still detect if she squints slightly. She smiles dreamily, intensely enjoying the ride, and it's a while before she raises her head and murmurs softly, "Pick a spot to start from, lovely tiger, for our hunt!"

The rakshasa's golden eyes are shining like moons in the deep gloom of the night-enshrounded jungle and this clearing is the most light they've had for quite a distance now, and it only the sweep of stars across the sky. The long, striped tail lashes in eager anticipation. Normally, it is angels that hunt him, and it is a matter of his life and his vow to evade them. Now, a goddess-girl hunts him and he will flee to give her an honorable contest.

Mikal slides off his back with languid grace, one arm still over his shoulders as she reaches forward and rubs one ear in lazy affection, "Be as good a hunt as you can, please?" She grins, stepping forward to wrap her arms as far as she can reach about his massive head, then stands on tiptoe to give his broad nose-pad a kiss. She whispers a soft, "Thank you," as she releases and steps back.

Ravana's laugh sounds more like a chuffing growl in this form and he assures Mikal that he will be unstinting in his pursuit of that goal. When she hugs him, he is almost startled and the kiss on his nosepad nearly garners her an affectionate lapping of her face, but he restrains himself and instead disappears into the gloom of the trees.

Mikal beams, watching silently -- a tiny, slim, graceful figure in the moonlight. She sighs happily once he's out of sight, turning to look in another direction... and a few minutes later, panting and at a gallop, Raphael finally appears! She laughs, hugging the exasperated raptor-wolf and promising him time to catch his breath. They have to give their quarry time to tangle up his backtrail, after all!

Mikal actually gives Raphael ten minutes to catch his breath, which is far more than the raptor-wolf needs -- because in the interim she's seated cross-legged in the center of the clearing, her eyes closed as she meditates. She knows sometimes, when she really needs to, she can do utterly amazing things. She'd always considered that one of the signs of her monstrous nature, but tonight it seems quite natural to her to be able to do such things. As she focuses on her inherent Talent, she concentrates on enhancing her senses so she can more effectively track and hunt her quarry.

When she opens her eyes, she looks almost dreamy-eyed, staring around her with wide, golden-glowing eyes. The jungle is alive to her now! She can taste the elation and arousal of her prey's trail, feel the gentle pressure of the scents in the cool night air, hear the rustle of obscuring branches falling back into place after stroking seductively along a striped flank, see the shimmer of intersecting forms dancing about the energy patterns that surround her... she laughs softly, drunk on the pleasure and excitement of the moment, and bounces lightly to her feet. Her voice is joyously reverent as she calls, "Raphael, my half-brother -- it is time to hunt!"

Ravana, though unearthly good at hiding to most, is a king and general, not a scout. He slides through the forest, leaving so little trail that anyone with less woodsense than the goddess-ridden Mikal would never have known that the huge form of the rakshasa had passed through the night-dark jungle. The riotous growth of trees and plants is far from silent, the whispers and calls of all the small nocturnal animals whispering through the leaves as he slinks by. The route he takes is by no means straight and circuitous would be a mild description. He takes advantage of the small river to obscure his scent and double back on himself, circling back to the clearing and searching for Mikal's trail.

When he fails to find Mikal's track, Ravana chuffs in amusement and circles back on his own trail, suspecting that she will have picked it up.

The trail she leaves for Ravana is easier to follow than he thought and he tracks her along it carefully with ears pricked and whiskers twitching, moaving as slowly now as he was swift before.

When Ravana comes upon the well-disguised noose-snare, he chuckles to himself and steps carefully around it, purposely leaving paw prints in the soft earth nearby so that Mikal will know he found and avoided it. The truth is that if anyone else had been tracking her, they may well have missed the cunning trap. When he runs out of trail, the tiger starts to creep carefully through the jungle, looking for his own backtrail.

Some distance away, Mikal is trotting after Ravana's backtrail, Raphael following her with his head up, alertly covering his little half-sister as she tracks cautiously to one side. Her eyes are shining with excitement, and her abilities are currently superlative enough that she can tell which is the fresher track by minutes, whenever she covers a spot where Ravana crossed his own trail in an effort to confuse things. She's also looking around for a good ambush spot, since she fully expects Ravana to easily break the trap she left if he even triggers it. She grins when she finds where he tried to obscure his trail in water -- this is exactly what she needs! She carefully searches both sides of the stream, climbing up into the trees to spot it, while Raphael wades easily through the water to cover his own trail as well. Eventually she finds where the wet tiger emerged, and carefully backtracks to a good spot, whispering mentally to Raphael. He grins, then positions himself so he can be clearly spotted b

He grins, then positions himself so he can be clearly spotted by a tiger emerging from the trees, and snuffles busily around, back and forth near the tree in which Mikal lies in wait, as if he's searching for tiger scent.

(Log autostopped Mon Jun 29 1909 11:37 PM at "Bough Soundstage" (OOC)

(OOC) Tue Jun 30 1909 06:07 PM by "Mikal" at "Bough Soundstage" (OOC)

Mikal nods thoughtfully, reassured, "I see." She giggles softly at the nuzzle, shifting sideways and pushing very gently with her fingers as she adds, "So, shall we hunt? I cannot promise a blessing from your Radha Lady if you are caught, since I do not think she is currently riding me, but if you feel reverently ready for it I believe I can offer some blessing from my Lady." Her grin gets mischievous as she adds, "You mustn't make it easy, though!"

Ravana lets himself be pushed away, though he breathes in quite deeply as if to keep the scent of her with him, "I would not dream of insulting a huntress so."

Ravana is already stretching as Mikal nearly loses her veil, "If only to protect your skin from the jungle, Ninshubur."

Ravana's next breath is a hungry and appreciative growl. The scents that were lovely but subtle to his human form are deliciously intense to the tiger. He rubs his chin against Mikal's shoulder before she slings her leg over his back and then he's off. The fact that the young bard is gone flits past and he wonders if the dreamer awoke or if Ninshubur's lover has left her in the rakshasa's care on purpose. And then they are bounding around the edges of the camp, headed for deep jungle.

Ravana leaps and bounds through the forest with utter carefree joy. He needn't fear the trees themselves now and so he slips through gaps and leaps obstacles he would have avoided before. Not until they are deep into the jungle does he slow and stop in a clearing scarce larger than twice his body length across. The rakshasa's golden eyes are shining like moons in the deep gloom of the night-enshrouded jungle; this clearing is the most light they've had for quite a distance now, and it only the sweep of stars across the sky. The long, striped tail lashes in eager anticipation. Normally, it is angels that hunt him, and it is a matter of his life and his vow to evade them. Now, a goddess-girl hunts him and he will flee to give her an honorable contest.

Mikal slides off his back with languid grace, one arm still over his shoulders as she reaches forward and rubs one ear in lazy affection, "Be as good a hunt as you can, please?" Ravana's laugh sounds more like a chuffing growl in this form and he assures Mikal he will be unstinting in his pursuit of that goal. She grins, stepping forward to wrap her arms as far as she can reach about his massive head, then stands on tiptoe to give his broad nose-pad a kiss. She whispers a soft, "Thank you," as she releases and steps back. When she hugs him, he is almost startled, and the kiss on his nose-pad nearly garners her an affectionate lapping of her face, but he restrains himself and instead disappears into the gloom of the trees.

When she opens her eyes, she looks almost dreamy, staring around her with a wide, golden-glowing gaze. The jungle is alive to her now! She can taste the elation and arousal of her prey's trail, feel the gentle pressure of the scents in the cool night air, hear the rustle of obscuring branches falling back into place after stroking seductively along a striped flank, see the shimmer of intersecting forms dancing about the energy patterns that surround her... she laughs softly, drunk on the pleasure and excitement of the moment, and bounces lightly to her feet. Her voice is joyously reverent as she calls, "Raphael, my half-brother -- it is time to hunt!"

Ravana -- though unearthly good at hiding to most -- is a king and general, not a scout. He slides through the forest, leaving so little trail that anyone with less woods-sense than the goddess-ridden Mikal would never have known the huge form of the rakshasa had passed through the night-dark jungle. The riotous growth of trees and plants is far from silent, the whispers and calls of all the small nocturnal animals whispering through the leaves as he slinks by. The route he takes is by no means straight -- circuitous would be a mild description. He takes advantage of the small river to obscure his scent and double back on himself, circling back to the clearing and searching for Mikal's trail.

The trail she leaves for Ravana is easier to follow than he thought and he tracks her along it carefully with ears pricked and whiskers twitching, moving as slowly now as he was swift before. When he comes upon the well-disguised noose-snare, he chuckles to himself and steps carefully around it, purposely leaving paw prints in the soft earth nearby so Mikal will know he found and avoided it. The truth is: if anyone else had been tracking her, they may well have missed the cunning trap. When he runs out of Mikal's trail, though, Ravana chuffs in amusement. The tiger starts to creep carefully through the jungle, looking for his own backtrail; he suspects she will have picked it up.

Some distance away, Mikal is indeed trotting after Ravana's backtrail, Raphael following her with his head up, alertly covering his little half-sister as she tracks cautiously to one side. Her eyes are shining with excitement, and her abilities are currently superlative enough that she can tell which is the fresher track by minutes, whenever she covers a spot where Ravana crossed his own trail in an effort to confuse things. She's also looking around for a good ambush area, since she fully expects Ravana to easily break the trap she left -- if he even triggers it. She grins when she finds where he tried to obscure his trail in water -- this is exactly what she needs! She carefully searches both sides of the stream, climbing up and navigating through the trees to spot it, while Raphael wades easily through the water to cover his own trail as well.

Eventually she finds where the wet tiger emerged, and carefully backtracks to a good location, whispering mentally to Raphael. He grins, then positions himself so he can be clearly spotted by a tiger emerging from the trees, and snuffles busily around, back and forth along the stream near the tree in which Mikal lies in wait, as if he's searching for tiger scent.

Ravana moves along his own trail much more slowly than he was moving when he first created it, creeping low to the ground and swinging his enormous head from side to side, ears perked for any sign of the huntress and her companion. His whiskers twitch in amusement, reminded of the games of hide and seek the rakshasa cubs play.

Mikal is delighted to have heard, so far, no sudden explosion of sound in the distance -- no startled nightbirds squawking in fright as they wing swiftly away, no startled or angry roar of a trapped tiger. To her that means her trap was successfully bypassed! She's internally gleeful about that -- although she does carefully review her intended 'capture' of the huge tiger. When it comes to fight or flight, she's quite aware on which side a tiger will fall, especially when startled. She must drop from the tree and land exactly on his shoulders -- because that's the sole spot where he cannot easily reach with his powerful jaws or claw-fringed paws. She trusts him to never deliberately harm her -- but she also knows she intends to surprise him, and he will likely react instinctively to his form.

When Ravana slinks close enough to catch sight of Raphael, he slows and then stops, eyes half-closing and ears flicking in a feline smile. Where Wolf is, Rabbit is not far behind. With the lightest step he can muster, he parts from his own trail and starts to circle around off his path.

Ravana isn't as careful as he was during the first laying of the trail, perhaps out of the sheer excitement of the hunt or because he is more often the pursuer than the pursued.

Mikal's eyes blaze with excitement and her grin widens as she catches sight of the big tiger. To keep him from drifting too far from where she wants him, she whispers mentally to Raphael. The big raptor-wolf responds accordingly: his head swings abruptly up from his scenting to stare off into the distance away from Ravana -- as if he were listening to a mental message from his little sister about finding the track further along. A moment later he gives a small yodel, as if in agreement, and lopes swiftly and easily forward down the riverside... again, away from where Ravana is, and Mikal lies in wait!

Mikal grins delightedly again -- that should hopefully straighten out Ravana's path, so he passes near to where she wants him to go!

Ravana's tail lashes and he looks around, trying to spot the girl, but when Raphael moves along down the river, he figures that the big wolf-like creature is moving toward her location and he creeps along the side of the river.

The big tiger has his head down, trying to catch the scent of Rabbit over his own trail and Raphael's pungent odor. He's not even paying attention to the overhead branches when he passes beneath the tree in which Mikal is ensconced.

Mikal is internally exuberant! She waits, carefully poised... and at precisely the correct moment -- she drops onto the big tiger's shoulders!

Mikal doesn't make a sound as she releases, and she lands with a light thump! precisely where she intended. Her exuberance bursts out of her with a gleeful, "Gotcha!" and delighted laughter! Far ahead, Raphael grins at the giggles, turning and heading swiftly back. He doesn't think the rakshasa would deliberately harm her either -- but he's also not taking any chances.

The unexpected thump causes Ravana to snarl and start to try and swipe a paw back over his shoulder. He's even preparing to shift back to a shape that would make that a much less advantageous position to his attacker when Mikal's voice rings out with excitement and his snarl turns into tigerish snorting laughter.

Mikal is still laughing as she hugs as far around his powerful neck as she can reach, "We win! That was great -- and you found my vine trap, didn't you? Did you have fun too?!"

Raphael comes trotting up, his tongue lolling out in a canid grin. That much laughter means his little sister has unwittingly charmed someone yet again.

Ravana lets Mikal hug him tightly and he flops down on his belly, casually grooming his paws and biting some bits and pieces of foliage out from between his toes, "Yes, I found your lovely trap, little Rabbit. It was well-made."

Mikal giggles, scooching up enough that she can lay over the top of his massive head and see down his nose to what he's doing, "Yay!" She's happily running her hands all over his head, fondling his ears and contentedly rubbing her chin and cheeks against his sleek, soft head fur, "Mmmm... you're so much fun! Thank you so much for playing with me and Wolf!"

The stroking is extremely nice, perhaps nicer than Mikal really realizes and Ravana is soon purring and letting his tail lash slowly side to side, "Thank you Ninshubur. It was quite exhilirating..." He lazily considers turning back to his human-ish form, but rejects it for the moment because it might disturb the way she's nuzzling and snuggling against him.

Mikal sighs happily, "Oh, good!" and rests her chin on her hands, folded on top of the broad tiger skull. She'd like to give him the same opportunity, but she's afraid he wouldn't be able to follow her trail at all if she's concentrating. How to let him hunt her...? She remembers vaguely the tall rakshasa lord stalking into the tent, and smiles -- that'd been curiously pretty to watch! She remembers dreamily for a bit -- then blinks! Maybe there's a way to let him hunt... if he were human? He was trying to stalk her in the tent, after all, right? So... perhaps if he were hunting her by sight, rather than tracking or scent... she grins excitedly as the seed of an idea starts to percolate in her head.

Ravana slowly relaxes as Mikal stills and his body shrinks down, shifting and transforming until the girl is sprawled across the muscular bare back of the human-formed king of the rakshasa, his black hair spread out ove rhis shoulders and the ground. He's not even quite aware that he's changed, but some part of him wanted the feel of MIkal against his skin.

Mikal giggles as she feels the change, sliding with deliberately sensual slowness off his side once he's completely shifted. She lands lightly on her feet and straightens, stepping back and saying cheerfully, "Oops! Sorry, didn't mean to be too forward." She puts a little bit more distance between them as she speaks -- if he gets really fast moving she'll likely need to dodge between the trees and through the underbrush to provide him with a proper challenge!

Ravana rolls onto his side to face Mikal and his nostrils flare, trying to catch that deliciously alluring scent of her again. "Too forward? My dear Ninshubur, how can you be too forward when you're backing away?" He shifts slowly until he's crouching, using the tips of his fingers to to balance himself as he shifts forward on the balls of his feet.

Mikal laughs softly, her eyes shining. She turns slightly so she's half towards the trees, flipping her hair back over her shoulder to help the scent spread a bit more. She runs her free hand along a branch in an almost caressing gesture, spreading yet more of her scent as she adds with apparent unconcern, "Well, is there a compelling reason to be forward, mmm?"

Mikal has picked out exactly which little hole in the underbrush she's going to dive into if he tries pouncing -- and she's mischievous enough to pick one that's sized to someone tiny! He'll have to go around if he wishes to follow.

Ravana doesn't pounce, but he does stretch his body out as far as he can without moving his feet, raising his head and smiling as he realizes that she's teasing him. She's urging him to pursue. This body language, that smile he knows. When he moves, it's on all fours, but not on his knees, it's the balls of his feet on the ground as he creeps slowly forward, "For you or for me, Ninshubur?"

Mikal's body language is crystal clear indeed -- when she realizes he's following she almost blazes with delighted excitement! She's gone still, though, slightly crouched and watching him so she can try to leap away if he finally pounces. Her voice is bubbly with repressed laughter, "Oh, surely for me, don't you think? I've heard male rakshasa are quite forward enough, after all!"

Ravana's voice is a purr so deep that it seems surprising that the leaves don't rustle at the sound of it. "Oh, we are. We are. But I have a need to be somewhat circumspect, lovely." A normal human would look awkward moving thus on all limbs, but the rakshasa seems almost to flow forward, "And for you, Ninshubur, you have need to gift the me to someone. I can smell is on you, desire and magic and holiness."

Mikal is still beaming excitedly, and she slides a smooth couple of steps further away from Ravana as she too almost purrs, "Circumspection, indeed? Why would that be, mmm?"

The lord of the rakshasa laughs throatily and stretches his movements so that he's not moving exactly faster but further with each step, "Because I had a lesson to learn about reverence."

Mikal blinks, then looks suddenly fascinated -- that, she'd love to hear more of, especially since what he says is true: she does need to share the holy rites with someone. If she can encourage reverence in him, the chances of her successfully gifting him with some of the civilizing me grow correspondingly! She'd like to share joyously and productively with the rakshasas -- again, even -- considering how welcoming they've been.

Mikal says, "Explain, please? I would know more of reverence, if you will?"

Ravana keeps moving forward, movements so fluid and graceful and relaxed that they seem slow despite the amount of ground he's covering with each one, "Once, there was a great scholar. He reveled in the beauty of knowledge, and yet also in the glory of battle. A man that wished his mind and soul to be as strong as his body."

Mikal nods, listening interestedly... although she does take a few more steps so she's right next to her dive-away spot!

Ravana's breathing is slow and deep, nostrils flaring as he closes the distance between himself and the goddess-ridden girl, "But as he was glorying in this strength of mind and of body, he was yet weak. His desires for women and for partaking of their beauty often overwhelmed him."

Mikal smiles slowly as she suddenly realizes who this story is about. Her voice is gentle, "That is a common problem for some men in these later days, yes." She grins mischievously after that, turning and wriggling swiftly through her little bolt hole -- he's quite close enough now! She has no idea she's just given him a rather attractive view of her backside for the few seconds it takes her to disappear into the undergrowth -- she just giggles and calls over her shoulder, "Go on, please?"

Ravana feels a growl of appreciation rumbling up from his throat and he rises to stalk slowly around the thicket into which Mikal has secreted herself, "Indeed, and even more so for a proud and powerful man. Many women were quite happy to have his attention and even sought it out, offering themselves and their company to him. And he was happy to welcome them."

Mikal grins, moving stealthily as freely through the underbrush as she would an open meadow -- a life lived almost entirely in the forest has taught her much of how to accommodate herself to its moods. Her voice isn't exactly where Ravana expected when he hears her giggle. "Well, they do say pride cometh before a fall, no?"

Ravana's eyes are shining with the pleasure of the stalking, slow chase and enjoyment of the girl's voice and scent drifting through the greenery. "But there was one, beautiful and powerful and revered, who would not have him."

Mikal is silently and stealthily climbing a tree to see if she can work her way over to another thicket, but at that she sits up interestedly on a branch and looks down for the stalking rakshasa, wondering who the woman was.

Ravana, remembering how Mikal surprised him before, raises his head and peers into the branches around and above him, "And she was the wife of one he respected. But, still, his pride and his hungers overwhelmed him and he stole her away against her will."

Mikal giggles and waves as the rakshasa abruptly realizes she's not in the thicket at all any more. At his words she shakes her head, her voice grave, "That's so sad, to disrespect a woman and a friend like that."

Ravana nods and smiles broadly, eyes heavy lidded, "She laid a curse upon him to teach him reverence. To teach him patience."

Mikal rises to her soft-booted feet on the branch, padding carefully out to the end. She bounces gently and experimentally on it, glancing around to see where she might leap to. Her voice is a touch absent, "That seems only just. What was it, if I may ask?"

Ravana creeps along until he's beneath the branch where she is perched and crouches again, judging the height and wondering if he would be able to spring upward. "That should he ever force another woman, he would lose all of his many heads. And his love of knowledge and joy of life put him in fear of her curse. And in the fear, he was forced to think."

Mikal glances down at the rakshasa and grins -- she recognizes that testing crouch! She has no idea if she's high enough or not for him; her height is predicated on about twice what the monsters of her homeland can leap. Dryly she murmurs, "That is a so-called curse, I think, which really should stand as is, without modification." She tilts her head, studying Ravana with interest for a few heartbeats -- he really looks very attractive when he's all interested and intent like this! She smiles, "What did he think, then?"

Ravana's eyes are dark, intent and eager, the sceptre urged onward by Mikal's easy body language and knowing the ways of one that flees to be pursued and one that flees to be chased. "He thought that it made him careful and thoughtful... after his anger at beint thwarted had cooled. And he was chagrinned at his own arrrogance. He knew, after all, that the goddesses were as holy as the gods."

Mikal pauses again, looking down at the rakshasa and smiling. She has her own allure, although she doesn't really know it, with her hair tousled about her small, intent face and tumbling down her back. "So he learned? He was happy with it after he'd thought about it?"

Ravana leaps not toward the end of the branch, but toward the trunk of the tree in which Mikal is ensconced, climbing with breathtaking speed until he can start to creep out onto her limb, "He found that he much enjoyed having things he had earned."

Mikal squeaks in startled delight, crouching slightly as the rakshasa moves with shocking speed! Her eyes blaze up with excitement again, and she glances around swiftly for a limb to leap to. There! She'll try that one. It's a bit far, but... maybe with a bit of loft from the whippy branch she can make it! She giggles, hanging on tightly as she deliberately thows her weight back and forth to get the branch really rocking powerfully.

Ravana seems undaunted by the whipping aorund of the branch, slinking out along it as she prepares to leap away form him, eyes blazing with joy and the eagerness of a hunter closing in on his prey.

Mikal gives a small, delighted squeal at how much fun riding the bucking branch is! She's unfortunately a little too excited -- and she releases at slightly the wrong time, flinging herself with reckless abandon towards the tree she wants to reach. As her feet are leaving the branch she's on, she realizes she's not quite right, and Ravana can see the glee leave her face in the sudden excited, sharply intent focus of trying to not fall 40 or 50 feet to the jungle floor!

Without a thought about anything but keeping the goddess' vessel from being shattered... and incidentally keeping a young woman that he finds fascinating from killing herself... Ravana flings himself after Mikal. There's not a hint of sensual stalker in his gaze now, but of intense concentration. If he cannot get them both safely to another branch, he can at least serve as a breakfall for the relatively fragile mortal body.

Mikal manages to grab hold of enough leafy armfuls that she has time to glance frantically around, as she's sliding slowly and inexorably off the too-weak branches. Another branch, a place to land, anything?!

Ravana's speed and bodyweight carry him farther than Mikal and he sweeps her up in his free arm as he throws himself fearlessly through the air, catching her up and thudding into the trunk of the tree beyond, clinging easily with slong, muscled limbs.

Mikal oofs! startledly, but reacts reflexively to the last second save -- she nearly wraps herself around the rakshasa, clinging tightly! Back by the riverbank, Raphael had been relaxedly snoozing, but his head jerks up in shock at the sudden burst of worry / fear / shock! He leaps to his feet, whirling to run to Mikal -- then sighs in relief when he feels the rescue through the link. He growls exasperatedly at her to be more careful for heavens' sake! -then lays back down a touch grumpily. Mikal blinks at Ravana, panting slightly, then squeaks, "Th-thank you!"

Mikal blushes suddenly, looking away and murmuring amusedly, "Wh-what was that about thinking first?" She grins in rueful embarrassment, hiding her face against his loose mane of dark, curling hair and still holding on tightly.

Ravana is scowling, but not at Mikal. Instead, he seems to be scowling at the close call and his voice is rough-edged as he says, "The joy of the hunt makes fools of us all occasionally. It is but part of living." He can't stroke her hair with his hand, so he nuzzles into it with his face and takes several deep breaths of her scent, "Can you cling to my back as I take us down?"

Mikal nods silently, still too embarrassed to face him. She carefully works her way around until her legs are wrapped around his waist and her arms are about his neck and shoulders. She rests her head against his back, her heart still going like a triphammer in her chest. That was too close! Raphael is right -- she was careless there.

Ravana is as graceful going down the tree as he was making his way up the other one, and no sooner are they on the ground than he is trying to get Mikal around in front of him to make sure that she is unhurt.

Mikal gives a small gasp of relief once they're on the ground, although she doesn't let go just yet. When he reaches for her she lets him shift her to in front, although she's still flushed with embarrassment and her gaze doesn't meet his. She whispers softly, "I'm so sorry -- I didn't mean to endanger us both with my showing off."

Ravana can't quite cradle Mikal like a child, but he does scoop an arm around and under her rump and thighs as he uses the other to check her for serious injury, face relaxing as he finds nothing serious. He laughs at her apology and rumbles close by her face, "And would you apologize for embodying the spirit of freedom, Ninshubur? I believe your lady would be disappointed if you did."

Mikal's flush darkens, although the corners of her lips start to turn up. "Surely even the rakshasa see a difference between freedom for oneself... and impinging on someone else's freedom?" She glances shyly sideways up at him as she adds, "Truly, my thanks for the save. That would have hurt quite a bit, I fear!" She hesitates, then carefully reaches to wrap her arms about his neck. At the same time she turns her head just enough to brush a quick, light kiss against his cheek, then whisper next to his ear, "Take me home, please?"

Ravana feels himself starting to tremble just the slightest bit. The sideways glance and the sweet brush of warm lips over his cheek make the coals of desire flare again, but he tamps them back down in order to care for the apparently chagrinned girl, "Would you have me carry you in my arms or on my back, lovely Ninshubur?"

Mikal grins at the rather lovely choices, but simply says, "Speed or comfort, mm? Do you have a preference, rakshasa lord?"

Mikal giggles and hugs him with her arms and legs as she adds shyly, "The, um, the tiger form is quite lovely, I must say... and, well, we can take our time once we're back, neh?"

Ravana smiles and brushes a kisses over Mikal's forehead, brushing against her third eye, "And with what will we take our time?" He's already carefully setting her on the ground and starting to resume the enormous tiger form that Mikal so seems to adore.

Mikal bounces happily on her toes, perking up quickly. She laughs at the query, then teasingly replies, "Oh, I expect we'll be reading books, no?" She giggles, adding cheerfully, "Actually, if you are willing I would very much like to know more about your sutras on lovemaking. Isn't there a holy book or two on them?"

Ravana's eyes, even in feline form flash with darkly eager anticipation as he realizes that, in an act that was bent on nothing to do with seduction, he may have won Ninshubur's favor. "There are several holy books on the joy of a man with a woman. I will be honored to share them with you." He crouches slightly to let her climb onto his back.

Mikal slips quickly and happily onto the broad back of the tiger, then sighs happily and wriggles luxuriously against the thick fur. Her voice is relaxed again as she murmurs, "Mmm... sounds lovely! Thank you, Ravana." She doesn't register that for the first time she's simply used his name, like a friend or lover -- instead of with an honorific. Contentedly she adds, "You have simply the loveliest fur -- I wish I could wear you!" She giggles at that, sitting up just enough to be able to ride well, so he can head swiftly back to the encampment.

(Log stopped Tue Jun 30 1909 09:16 PM by "Mikal" at "Bough Soundstage" OOC)

(OOC) Wed Jul 1 1909 06:27 PM by "Mikal" at "Bough Soundstage" (OOC)

Ravana bounds back toward the encampment even faster than he brought them out into the jungle. He laughs at her comment about his fur and wearing him, "I am afraid that isn't possible, little Rabbit. But I will do my best to give you another chance at my fur before you must move on."

Mikal grins at that, lazily stroking the sleek fur with one hand -- she's busy holding on with the other, and with her legs. She murmurs thoughtfully, "Fair warning, handsome tiger: after this, when it is only Rabbit within me, I may be extremely, umm..." she giggles, "shall we say... self-conscious around you? But I assure you, it will not be due to unhappiness at the time we've spent together. When I caught you while hunting, you laughed with me and weren't upset, and when you saved me from falling you were generous, and didn't berate me." She's silent for another few heartbeats, then smiles again as she adds, "I think your story regarding reverence has a happy ending, yes?"

Ravana laughs throatily as she continues stroking him as they race through the jungle. He slows as they reach the encampment and he slips past the guards almost silently, making his way to his tent by a circuitous route that leaves them almost unseen.

Ravana says, "Yes, I believe it does have a happy ending, and I will do my best to be gentle with you when you are simply Rabbit."

Mikal turns her head as she hears Raphael's query in her head: does she want him there? She smiles and mentally shakes her head to him, thanking him for his solicitousness and wishing him a relaxed night. She suspects the rakshasa lord will eventually have to sleep, after all, and if his story is true -- and from his behavior to date she has no reason to think otherwise -- then she has nothing to fear from him. She laughs softly, with pleasure, at Ravana's words, leaning to hug him as far as she can reach about his muscled neck, "Thank you! That is very considerate of you, Ravana." She wriggles with happy excitement, adding, "Thank you for the hunt also -- that helped to shed a little of the excess energy I'm currently carrying!" Her voice is teasing as she adds, "Perhaps we'll be able to get rid of some more in the next few hours, mmm?"

The rakshasa laughs again, delighted at the teasing flirtation from the priestess-hunter as he ducks into his own tent, still in his feline form. Inside, there is only one lamp to shed light, making the prosaic shapes of chairs and battle table and bed seem somehow mysterious. There is the scent here of incense and flowers.

Mikal sits up, sniffing appreciatively -- then looks around in fascinated curiosity, "This is your pavilion? Wasn't there a lady here the other day, when I came knocking for help to find Papaios?" She blinks, then adds a little anxiously, "Er... she won't be displaced or offended at this, will she?"

Ravana crouches to let Mikal slide off his back before he stretches up and changes, slipping back into his human form, still dressed in his ritual clothing, "There was a woman with me, yes, but she will not be offended or displaced. She has her own home and her own place. This is mine alone and I share it occasionally."

Mikal nods in relief, "All right! Your pardon; I just wished to not cause trouble in your home."

Mikal has, without really thinking about it, also let her clothing shift back to what she wore for the ceremony.

The lord of the rakshasa catches his breath and then the sound turns into a low growl of appreciation as Mikal's clothing goes from practical to beautifully alluring. He moves toward her again, reaching carefully out to fold the dupatta off her dark-stained hair. In the same motion, he leans down, intent upon kising her.

Her hair tumbles in raven's-wing black disarray down her back, and she glitters with precious jewelry at her crown, forehead, throat, wrists, upper arms, waist, and ankles. Brilliant, sweet-smelling flowers still wreath her, and the beautifully embroidered silken wrap is rather casually draped about her. She grins delightedly and, like a cat, darts curiously around to look at Ravana's large pavilion, occasionally making small, intereted sounds. Once she spots it off in its own area, the battle table draws her like a moth to a flame, and she makes a small frustrated noise at how tall it is.

Ravana is startled into a throaty laugh as Mikal darts off, leaving the silken drape behind in the rakshasa's hands. The girl moves like a wild and joyful thing and it is stunning to watch. He follows her more slowly, breathing becoming slow and deep as he nears her, and when he reaches her where she stands by the battle map, he scoops her up with his hands on her waist to hold her up high enough to see it.

Mikal gives a small, startled squeak -- then laughs delightedly, turning enough to loop a bracing arm about his neck. She's staring with fascinated focus over the battle table, letting her highly-energized vision come to the fore again to see what she sees in the iconic layout of the two battling armies.

Ravana breathes in slowly and appreciably through his nose and then nuzzles in against the hollow where her neck meets her shoulder. The grip on her body shifts and his hands cup her, one under her behind and one under her thighs, making her more steady as she looks over the battle map. He himself knows it like the back of his hand.

Mikal reflexively leans her head against Ravana's, rubbing her cheek lightly against him as she stares in silent fascination at the battle map.

Mikal finally points, her voice thoughtful, "There -- that jagged outcropping there. Is that where we looked out over the valley? I wonder... if you drew the angels into the valley, they usually hover at about the height of the outcropping, yes?" She sketches out in swift sentences another possible ambush the rakshasa might set for their enemies, then turns and beams at Ravana, her eyes still bright with delighted excitement, "Do you think that might work?"

Despite his distraction at her scent and the feel of Mikal warm and bare in his arms, her comment on the battle map makes him pay attention to it for a moment, brows raising in surprise and lips curling up in a nearly vicious grin, "Mmm... that could indeed make for a glorious battle."

Mikal beams and gives a happy wriggle, "Oh, good!" She blinks as she realizes how close Ravana is to her face... then her expression eases into a small, quietly pleased smile. She lightly traces the clean angles of one strong cheekbone with her finger, murmuring, "Do you have any fruit or something to drink here, mmm?" She's a pragmatic right this moment -- she'd like the big rakshasa to remain alert and interested for as long as he can within the holy rites. Making sure he's got plenty of liquids should help.

Ravana smirks as Mikal swings from battle to what seems a nonsequitor to him. Still, he points to a bowl of sweet fruit and a stoppered bottle beside it, "Fruit and wine both, Ninshubur. Do you hunger or thirst?" One of his hands has shifted to caress the shining mass of curls spilling down Mikal's back, but he is starting to tremble on the edge of starting to push.

Mikal smiles and shakes her head, "No, but I'd like to share with you?" She grins mischievously at him, leaning her forehead against his and looping both arms about his neck as she softly adds, "Would you like to carry me over there, lovely tiger?"

Ravana's eyes grow dusky and heated as he murmurs, "I would carry you anywhere you wished tonight, Ninshubur." He moves to the table without looking, knowing his surroundings like the back of his own hand, one arm still carefully supporting the bejeweled priestess firmly.

Mikal sighs happily, then nuzzles gently as she murmurs amusedly, "You're going to have to set me down if you want to share the fruit and wine with me, mm? Perhaps we could curl up together?"

Another laugh and Ravana crouches far enough that Mikal can reach the fruit and wine, "Can you pick them up and we shall return to my bed to share them, and perhaps other things."

Mikal brightens, "What a lovely idea!" She reaches out with both hands, not bothering to balance herself; she has faith he won't drop her, but will rather keep her carefully close, like a delicate bouquet. She gathers the bowl and stoppered flask into her lap, then glances mischievously sideways up at the rakshasa, "When you're ready, of course?"

He turns out to be ready immediately and carries her carefully over to his bed, setting her down with an eye to not spilling either the fruit or the wine. For a moment, he simply smiles down at her there, and then he unties his sash, beginning to shed his own celebratory clothing.

Mikal settles the bowl and flask securely next to the bed, then bounces up, "Wait, wait! Let me do that -- slow down!" She laughs softly, taking his hands and trying to draw him down next to her, "There's no rush, handsome... shall we play a little first? I've been told foreplay is quite important in your sutras, after all?" Her eyes are sparkling with mischievous enthusiasm, and the lamp streaks her hair with shimmering light, and gleams on her lips.

Ravana laughs and takes his hands away from his sash, folding himself down onto the bed with Mikal, "Oh, indeed. It is quite important. The kama sutra, for instance, teaches of all the different marks that may be left by the teeth or by the nails..."

Mikal laughs delightedly! -then looks serious and interested, "Gracious, this may take a while!" Her infectiously enthusiastic grin shines forth again as she settles comfortably next to the huge, reclining rakshasa, and she runs her hands slowly along his bare chest as she murmurs, "Does it have anything special for when the woman is very small and the man is very large?"

Ravana rumbles in a nearly feline way, "Oh, indeed it does... and do you know what it calls such a small woman?" One hand caresses down her side until his fingertips can trail over her hip, flexing at the last moment to leave soft pink lines on her skin.

Mikal draws a slow, savoring breath, stretching with pleasure against the stroking hand. Her small smile is knowing: this is a dance she knows very well indeed -- and has always adored! "No; enlighten me, please?"

Ravana leans in and kisses slowly along one of Mikal's shoulders, speaking between the caresses of his lips, "A dove. A dove woman is lovely and lithe, small and beautiful and is as fragrant as the blossoming lotus." His teeth catch her earlobe on the last word, just for a moment.

Mikal shivers at the touch of teeth, her languid gaze going heavy-eyed, "Indeed? What a lovely euphemism." Her hand curls, her fingernails trailing lightly along the rakshasa's front, circling one nipple like a promise of pleasure to come.

The touch of her fingertips makes him growl softly and his caressing hand slides over her hip to trace and tickle over the delicate dimples that crown the sweetness of her fundament. "The mare woman is slim and tall, with the scent of the fruit of the sea and is easily seduced. The she-elephant is gluttonous and highly sexed." His teeth graze her skin again, not biting exactly, but making her aware of their touch, "Among men, the rabbit is handsome, tender and well-spoken. The bull is stout, muscled and well-shaped smells of salt. The horse is sturdy, powerfully and passionate..."

Mikal grins, leaning down to sniff carefully at Ravana's chest -- and to run her tongue in a slow caress along the skin, letting it curl slowly around the nipple. Her breath is heated against damp skin as she murmurs, "Go on? What sort are you, handsome?"

The flicker of Mikal's tongue would likely have derailed Ravana quite completely if his love of knowledge had not been invoked along with his passion. "Sweet dove, delicate Rabbit, I am a horse man. The union between us would be called the highest of all unions, but it must be gone about with gentility and patience. I will endeavour to be sure it is as sweet as ever you could wish."

Mikal is nibbling gently on damp skin, and her breath is warm again as she purrs, "Teach me, please?"

Ravana goes about demonstrating the ways to kiss. The straight kiss of mouth to mouth, the bent kiss where the lovers' heads are inclined toward one another. Taking her head in his hands, he tilts her face up to his and kisses her, murmuring to her that it is the turned kiss. As he's explaining and demonstrating the embrace of the thighs, sliding his own leg between Mikal's and encouraging her to press hers together around it.

Mikal is a daily hiker and an accomplished stag-rider; when she wraps her warm thighs about Ravana's powerful muscles, he can feel her eager heat and strength. She stretches herself out along his length eyes shining with sensual pleasure, her tousled hair brushing in light, ticklish strokes against his sensitized skin. Her voice is soft and slightly breathless, "How's that? Am I doing it right, handsome?"

The pressure of her legs holding his and the heat and softness of her arousal bring a growl to Ravana's throat and he arches downward to take her face in his hands, "You are doing it perfectly, beautiful." The kiss he then bestows on her is hungry and heated, stealing his breath.

Mikal purrs with languid contentment, nibbling gently on his lower lip as he starts to pull away from the kiss. Her small hands reach up and tangle in his dark, loose-flowing hair, as she stretches as far as she can -- due to his size, he has to fold himself quite a bit to reach her. She can't help the small, sensually excited wriggle of her hips, rubbing herself with hungry abandon against his warm skin.

Ravana's voice is raspy, "And that is called the pressed kiss... and can lead to losing oneself in passion." His hands slide down to her hips as she wriggles, nails biting gently into her skin and he finds himself starting to turn her onto her back, pushing with the weight of his body.

Mikal laughs at that, sitting up a bit, her palms resting on his body, "Wait, please? I would prefer not to be underneath." She smiles, adding ruefully, "I worry about getting squished unintentionally, you know?" With one small hand she starts to unfasten the sash holding his decorated wrap about his waist, "Are there any positions, I hope, for the dove woman and the stallion which do not require the woman beneath?"

Ravana watches Mikal's hands as she reaches for his sash, dark eyes bare slits as he purrs, "The suspended congress... or simply the congress of the rising dove..." The silk of his clothing does nothing to hide or even draw attention away from his arousal, "In the suspended congress, I would stand and hold you in my hands and allow you to guide yourself."

The rakshasa's breathing is speeding up considerably, "In the congress of the rising dove, I would lie upon my back and you would descend upon me, rising above me like a dove yearning to take flight."

Mikal glances up from beneath her bangs and smiles, "Would you enjoy that?" She doesn't stop what she's doing; she folds the wrap back slowly and neatly, like unwrapping a particularly desired present. Her smile gets wicked as she slowly and deliberately licks her lips at sight of his visible desire.

Ravana feels a moan rising in his vitals as Mikal's smile becomes deliciously impish and it takes great will to simply caress her rather than grasping her. "I would hold this night in cherished thoughts even if you left at this moment, Ninshubur, but I would be honored if you would be the rising dove."

Mikal looks slightly shocked, "Left now?! How unconscionably rude!" She considers that a moment, still gently stroking her nails along the insides of his thighs, then gives him a puzzled look, "Does that actually happen?"

Mikal's voice is bemused as she slowly adds, "Wouldn't that be... well, incredibly frustrating to both?"

One of Ravana's hair reaches for Mikal's hair and tangles his fingers in it, hips rising up as her nails leaves trails of spine-shivering sensation along his skin. "It has... not happened... in many taels to me..." He's shaking with the effort it takes not to simply pull her to him.

Mikal smiles with quiet affection down at the rakshasa, watching him as she strokes slowly along his skin. Her voice is soft and sweet, a purr deep enough to drown in pleasure as she whispers, "I am honored to be your dove tonight, my stallion." She leans forward, letting her body strop warmly along his as she trails kisses up his front, until she's moved far enough that she can feel him quivering between her thighs. Her eyes are half closed as she reaches out for his hands, almost moaning, "Help me be steady?"

Ravana reaches up, hands broad and strong and adoringly supportive, each of her kisses drawing a soft moan or sigh from the enormous man's chest. The brush of her skin against his, against his stomach and his chest is as intoxicating the scent and taste of her. "Until the stars fall, Ninshubur..." The expression of his face is equal parts passion and awe.

Mikal's expression is almost transcendantly joyous as she leans to kiss the tips of his fingers, where they're interwoven with hers. It has been long and too long since she's danced the holy rites; her lovely Cat has awakened their bliss in her once more, but it is the huge rakshasa who is helping her remember her sacred duties in return. She sighs warm breath against damp skin, and descends to her reverent worshipper, welcoming him gladly into her jeweled temple.

Obliged to stay still and careful in order not to injure the mortal woman, Ravana arches his head back in trembling ecstasy as she rises over him. The embrace of her body is intense and sends the blood rushing to his head and a murmured song of prayer and praise rises to his lips.

Mikal's voice is soft and intimately husky, singing her own joyous rapture in harmony to his and echoed by the musical chiming of her bracelets and anklets. She rides carefully so she doesn't hurt herself, her small hips swaying at first slowly -- but soon her rhythm speeds up with increasing confidence and pleasure. She tosses her head back, almost glowing with ecstasy, shaking back the tangled mane of hair, and sweet scented flower petals fall in a small cascade on Ravana's skin.

The rakshasa watches Mikal arch over him and he shifts his hands, supporting her solidly with one as the other caresses down the front of her body, brushing her small, perfect breasts and dancing over the divot of her navel, both hands finally coming to rest on her hips, one thumbe sliding down to search out the pearl buried in the petals of her lotus.

Mikal cries out softly, her body arching back gracefully in his large hands as her hips continue to sway. She's starting to unwittingly clutch as her arousal mounts, and her tongue runs slowly over her parted lips as she gazes with languorous hunger down at her lover, savoring his increasing fire as it feeds her own.

Only his long training in the sutras of love and sensuality let Ravana resist the sweet and pleasurable sensations of Mikal's body against and around his own. His breathing and heartbeat speed up to a gallop and his songs of praise and desire rise until they are sure to be heard by anyone passing by the tent in which he is sharing the goddess' energy with the mortal girl. When she looks down at him, his face is pure ecstasy and awe, overwhelming reverence.

Mikal has fallen deeply into the trance-state of blissfuly holy sensuality; snatches of (often breathless) song escape her lips as she sinously sways and writhes in the most beautiful of dances. Her own face shines like the sun as she sings softly, half unwittingly, of what she embodies: Inanna's instructions on the Sacred Orgasm, "If the man wishes to enjoy the full and subtle nuances of Sacred Orgasm, he must patiently, sweetly, lovingly, and deliberately lift the frequencies of his lover. When a woman generates massive, deep, sacred orgasmic wave fields based on his efforts, so will he! Their union will prolong his orgasm with hers; if he allows himself, he will be able to tune into her experiences, which he himself has fired and augmented. Let them be carried away in the joy of their mutually created bliss: the blessed waves of my true Sacred Orgasm..."

Ravana turns his desire and his reverence toward Mikal, hands moving over her body, touching her in every way he has ever known to cause a woman pleasure, feeling as if he wants to become vapor and light.

The rakshasa finds that having to hold himself back from the edge and be so very careful with the small and agile mortal causes the desire that would normally be building fast toward release to build slower and more intensely, the pressure building like a geyser.

Mikal responds with blissful joy to her lover's sweetly reverent attentions, tossing her hair back again and nearly falling into his hands in sensual abandon. She is an exquisitely trusting dove, her softly enticing song rising and swelling with his devotion. He almost cups her between his hands: tiny and fragile and burning so brightly with the spark of life! When her jubilant delirium surges to a point where she can no longer contain it, she feels like she explodes with light and energy, in a rhapsodic passion, and she gladly pours herself into her huge lover's energy form.

Only when Mikal is arching over him in ecstasy does Ravana begin to let the joy and energy from her release wrap around him and lift him with her into the arms of the goddess and the light created by that joining. As he lets the light burst through him, the many arms of his true form seem to wrap around and embrace the lovely and generous girl.

Mikal is in rapturous, ecstatic flight for long, long moments, swaying and singing her joy as she's cradled on and by the rakshasa. She drinks up his energetic gifting, her eyes ablaze with passion and her breath caught in her throat -- then with ardent intensity she sheds as much of the energy as she can, blissfully returning his generosity with fervent rapture.

The rush of energy back into him sends Ravana spinning mentally and spiritually. He has always been a warrior and a formidable scholar, and he has been hospitable and pleasant, but kindness has not been something that has come naturally to him. With the curse binding him to gentleness and the slow seduction and consummation of the dance with Mikal, the energy pouring through him slides into his soul and his mind, changing him, gifting him with the me of kindness. He cries out in jubiliant surprise and then his rolls back into his head and he goes limp beneath the soaring mortal.

Mikal is not particularly alarmed since she knows that happens sometimes. She lets herself down slowly and gently, then shifts to settle next to Ravana. She strokes his face gently, her own face shining with ecstatic joy, then laughs softly and starts combing out his hair -- to her that's an affectionate and intensely personal pleasure shared between lovers. When Ravana gently awakens his head rests in her lap, and she's singing soft, blissed praises over him to her Lady of Love and War, her small hands plaiting flowers into his hair.

Ravana reaches up a hand to cup Mikal's face and finds himself wanting to do something nice for her, a thank you, a boon. Some way of giving back for the several things she has given him as the goddess inhabited her. But words fail even the normally eloquent rakshasa and he simply luxuriates in her company as he tries to assimilate the me.

The two entities -- the powerful rakshasa lord and the tiny, goddess-ridden mortal girl -- spend the rest of the night and much of the morning together. Their unions are transcendant and joyous, as they teach each other the beautiful intricacies of their individual cultural versions of the oldest and most sacred rites of life. With affectionate caresses, soft whispers, languidly sensual looks, mingled energies, and the erotic pleasures of scent and taste, they fill their senses and their bodies with each other. They may have only this one time together, but their shared prayers are deeply reverent and sincerely offered.

(Log stopped Wed Jul 1 1909 10:42 PM by "Jareth" at "Bough Soundstage" OOC)

(OOC) Sun Jul 5 1909 04:05 PM by "Mikal" at "Bough Soundstage" (OOC)

Ravana and Mikal are still lying together in sleepily langorous afterglow when there is a scratch at the door of Ravana's tent and the rakshasa sighs with comfortable regret, "I fear my generals will want my attention again, beautiful Ninshubur." He kisses Mikal's navel gently.

Mikal mms lazily, then giggles as she gently brushes back his loose, dark-gleaming hair, "Are they worried you've been all eaten up, mmm?"

Ravana laughs, the sound a rumble and a purr all at once. He shifts so that he's over Mikal, not actually resting atop her, but looking down at her as he nibbles her bottom lip, "No, but they will have been wanting to talk about fighting for several hours now."

Mikal chuckles, resting her head on one small hand as she reaches relaxedly up to stroke his cheek while they kiss. Her voice is low and teasing, "Surely they pray to the Lady on occasion?" She curls an arm about his neck, and when he sits up she's easily drawn upright with him. Her mischievous sideways glance from beneath her lashes is teasing, "Or perhaps there should be more such prayers, mmm?"

Ravana laughs again, lazily, holding Mikal against himself for a moment and nuzzling into her hair to appreciate their scents mixed together so wonderfully. "There should, indeed there should... but for now, little goddess, I must return to the more violent side of my vow."

Mikal smiles and rests her cheek against his head as he nuzzles against her. Her small arm still rests about his neck as she murmurs, "May I ask a small boon of you before you go, Ravana? I can feel my Queen of Love and War is close to me now, but in time I will be mostly Rabbit once more. Will you keep in mind please that though Rabbit will also remember our time together fondly, she is far, far shyer than I... and you are easily intimidating when you are enthusiastic?"

Mikal does not expect Ravana will be that interested in courting Rabbit's attention any longer, now he's been with Ninshubur, but she does hope he will at least be gentle and kind to her.

Ravana trails his fingers down along Ninshubur's side and smiles, "I promise to be gentle with her. And if I should have the honor of her company again in such a way as this... I will keep in mind her nature then as well. And your bard? Should you be returning to him?"

Mikal looks relieved, "Thank you!" She chuckles at his query, "I think it is less a 'should' as it is a desire to do so." She considers for a moment, her heavy-eyed gaze going unwittingly smoky as she looks within and absently tucks an errant strand of dark-gleaming hair behind one small ear. Her low murmur is almost purring again, "I believe I have enough for one more me, as well; your people were beautifully generous in their worship, and they have my thanks. I think I shall attempt to gift it to our young Bear, and for that I suspect I shall need Cat's assistance."

Ravana's dark brows slide up into his hairline, "Indeed? And how will your Cat feel about assisting rather than simply allowing your dalliance with another?"

Mikal bounces lightly out of the comfortable tangle of pillows and silky sheets, and Ravana can see her dark hair swaying as she does so, the ends caressing lazily across the smooth curves of her small rump. She turns to face him; standing before him while he's seated puts them both at eye-level. She laughs softly, unselfconsciously sensual and with her eyes dancing with warm affection, "I don't know; I shall ask!" She's looking around for the dupatta as she smiles and adds, "The qadishim are more talented than you might initially suspect, after all. Ah!" With a small jingle of bells, she pounces on the lovely, embroidered silken cloth they'd casually tossed aside previously, straightening up and holding it out in her henna-decorated hands. Teasingly she murmurs, "May I keep this for the nonce? Otherwise I shall have to walk through your encampment as I am, and while it would not unduly disturb me, your people might be a bit, um..." She can't suppress the delighted giggle, "shall we say a bit... startled?"

Ravana laughs and gently takes the dupatta from Mikal and then carefully drapes it over her head and around her body with the skill of someone that has helped do just such a thing many times, "Please keep it for yourself. You need not leave it with us, Ninshubur. Keep it in remembrance."

Mikal laughs softly in sensuous pleasure as Ravana re-drapes her, raising her arms and swirling her graceful, lean body around as necessary for him to tuck it properly into place. When he's done she steps forward and wraps her arms about his neck, kissing his cheek in thanks. Her hair brushes delicately against his bare arm as she does so, and the jewelry she's wearing chimes harmoniously at her every movement.

Ravana's hands slide over her arms as well and he raises her hands to his mouth, kissing her palms, each precisely in the center, "And if you would keep the bangles, I would be honored. The rest, I am afraid I must ask to be returned."

Mikal tilts her head thoughtfully, watching the big rakshasa, and her voice is careful, "You would give them as a gift of remembrance also?"

Ravana kisses MIkal's fingertips, "I would gift them to you as a gift of admiration."

Mikal beams delightedly, her face shining with happiness, "Then I would be honored at your kindness, Ravana; thank you!" She swiftly unpins and unfastens the gleaming, intricate jewelry, piling them on a pillow with the casual unconcern of someone who's handled a lot of gold in her time. The quiet joy with which she regards the remaining bracelets and anklets, however, shows a far more reverent perspective, which is mirrored in her sensually pleased, smoky purr, "A gift given for joy and remembrance of sharing the sacred rites is sacred in its own right. My thanks, honored Ravana."

Ravana salaams to Mikal/Ninshubur and puts the remainder of the jewelry into a small chest for safekeeping. Afterward, he wraps himself in his every day clothing and murmurs, "And now back to the job at hand."

Mikal's mischievous grin flashes over her shoulder as she whirls lightly on her bare feet, making the tiny bells sing aloud, and her dark hair flares out like a darkly gleaming banner. The silk of the dupatta swirls around her, outlining some of her smooth curves, and she blows him a kiss, "Walk in Her Light, honored Lord!" before she darts lightly out of the pavilion. Ravana can hear her giggle and cheerful, "Excuse me, please!" as well as a few startled chuffs from the tiger-men waiting there -- and then the soft chiming and patter of her feet fades off, and all that's left is her scent lingering in the warm, heavy air.

Jareth himself has spent the night celebrating with the rakshasa. His newly acquired me has made him rather popular, his stories and playful flirtation with the two young rakshasi that helped Mikal prepare for the ritual led to the young man experiencing something that never would have happened in Staunton and he found himself drowsing between the two females for an hour or so before dawn. Before the dawn had begun to tint the sky, however, he took his leave with warm regards and thanks to them and took himself back to the pavilion set aside for the mortals to wait for his mate.

The rakshasa that were waiting for entrance to Ravana's tent are not as shocked as they would be on another night to have the decorated mortal come dancing out amongst them. The encampment is quieter than it would be many mornings and her enthusiasm leaves smiles and chuckles in her wake.

Jareth is lounging comfortably and sipping lassi as he waits for the return of his packmates, lazing against Raphael and cheerfully mentioning to the raptor-wolf that he would, at some point, like to be left actually alone with his mate when said mate arrives, bringing a sunny smile to his face.

Mikal is still brimming with energy, although it's not quite so urgent or painful now. She cheerfully sways through a few swirling dance steps around those she meets who seem inclined to smile and salaam in return. If they do, she'll beam and sing a blessing on them, then continue pattering lightly on towards the pavilion she shares with her beloved packmates. Jareth can hear the delicate song of the tiny bells first, along with her contented humming -- and then there's the light scratching on the doorpost, and Mikal's slightly breathless, happy, "Hallo, the tent!" before she brushes the silk door panel aside far enough to peek inside.

Raphael snorts quietly at Jareth's comment, then gives a long-suffering sigh and rises, his gaze upon Jareth almost pitifully lugubrious -- for about 5 seconds! After that the raptor wolf leans forward with a mischievous grin on his wide-fanged face and generously slurps Jareth's face -- then bounds easily out of the tent, his tongue lolling out in silent laughter.

Jareth rises to his feet and moves to wrap Mikal up in his arms for a warm and welcoming kiss, sighing happily at the feel of his mate in his arms again. For a moment, he waits for the surge of jealousy he felt at the thought of her spending the night with Ravana and finds that all he has in that place is a curiousity. What he says, however, is "Welcome back, ma petite amour."

Mikal also sighs happily, her arms twining about Jareth's neck and her slim body pressed eagerly to his. Her lips are warm, her kiss hungry, and she's nearly purring with pleasure, "Mmm, thank you, mon chat beau!" Shyly she adds, "Missed you, sweetling. Thank you so much for being here when I came back!" Her voice is perhaps more fervent than she realizes, and she hugs him tightly, resting her head against his shoulder and nuzzling into the warm curve where his shoulder meets his neck. The sweet scents of incense, flowers, and warm sex mingle about her.

Jareth strokes Mikal's hair back and pushes the dupatta off her face, rather reluctant to let her go. Having spent the night with two women he very much enjoyed and respected, but with whom he was not in love, has reminded him just how different and beautiful his time with Mikal is, even the times when they are simply in one another's company. "I made sure to come back before dawn, beloved. I wanted to be here for you."

Mikal leans back enough to look up into Jareth's face, her kohl-accented eyes almost luminous with joy at his statement. She struggles for words for a moment, her lips sweetly parted and an almost tearful brightness coming to her gaze, before she finally whispers softly and fervently, "Je t'aime tellement, mon coeur!"

The tears startle Jareth and he gently kisses Mikal's cheeks just beneath her eyes, "And I you, my little golden rabbit. But why do I see tears waiting in your eyes?" He smells warmly of Raphael and beneath that of incense and also of sex, which isn't surprising given his activities of the previous night.

Mikal laughs softly, dropping her gaze even as she happily turns her face up to his kisses. She hesitates, trying to put her emotion to words, then finally says slowly, "I... can remember many, many lovers as Ninshubur -- but I cannot recall, either as Mikal or as Ninshubur, lovers who loved me for myself, for who I am. I am -- was the spiritual mirror of Inanna, or the sacred Lady of the Dawn who granted the holy me... but never before now have I been simply myself, who is someone's beloved." She's silent a moment, her dark lashes resting on her golden cheeks as she savors the sensual pleasure of being held so close and warm -- then she murmurs softly, "It is a heady draught indeed, my love."

Jareth nuzzles his cheek against the top of Mikal's hair. He knows that there are things he does not remember, but that knowledge is new to him and he has yet to explore them. The only lovers he has memories of are the ones he took in Staunton and the ones he has had since coming to the Dreamtime. For now, he just holds Mikal and murmurs agreement.

Mikal sighs happily, then sways gently towards the heaped pillows of their bedding, encouraging Jareth to curl up with her there. She's still glowing with happiness, although it's calmer and less painfully frenetic feeling now, and her voice still has that sensual tone, like velvet against the skin, "Sweet Cat, I need your advice, please? I think I have enough energy left from the worship of the rakshasa to grant one more me. I'd like to gift it to Norris, but I don't want to scare him. Can you help me do this? Or is that too much to ask?"

Jareth blinks slowly and lets himself be guided onto the bedding. Without thinking of it, he starts unwrapping the duppata from around her body and murmuring quietly, "I..." And then he has to pause, thinking carefully about his answer before he voices it. He doesn't want to unintentionally lie to his beloved, after all. "What sort of help do you need, mon lapin?"

Mikal says, "I do not think he will currently lie willingly with me, sweetling, for fear of hurting your feelings -- and perhaps mine also, when I am but Mikal again." She laughs suddenly, her eyes sparkling, and gently traces Jareth's jawline with one finger, murmuring amusedly, "Will you be kind, please, when Ninshubur has departed? I suspect I shall be shocked, possibly aghast, at my supposed forwardness, then?"

Mikal is a tiny, supple woman with passionate, storm-gray eyes that silently speak the untameable nature of a wild thing. Right now they look huge and dark, accented with kohl, and a scarlet bindi gleams provocatively on her smooth brow. Her usual chaotic muss of soft hair has been dyed a gleaming ravens-wing black, and brilliant flowers are woven into the unrestrained profusion of ringlets and thin braids which tumble loosely down her back. Delicately belled bracelets and anklets flash and glitter golden at her wrists and ankles, chiming harmoniously with every fluid sway of her hips. Warm reddish henna patterns swirl with elegant artistry along her smooth, bare arms, hands, and small feet, enhancing her sun-golden skin. She's lightly wrapped in an embroidered silk sari whose shimmering scarlet sensually accentuates the willowy grace of her lithe, lean body.

Jareth chuckles and ducks his head to kiss Mikal's chest over her heart, "I will always strive to be gentle with you."

Mikal's smile is warmly affectionate as she gently strokes his hair, "You are a treasure, mon chat beau. Can you assist me with Norris, then? Have you any suggestions on how I might successfully gift him with one of the holy me?"

The kissing moves down over Mikal's stomach as he thinks, hands resting on the slender curve of her hips, "Well, am I right that it would require you bedding him?"

Mikal is running her fingers with languid pleasure through her lover's hair. Her voice is dreamy, "Mmhmm..."

Jareth has to think on that for another long moment, "And you wish to make sure he understands that it's OK with me and that... that is Ninshubur and not Mikal?"

Mikal says, "Oh, I am Mikal. I'm just Ninshubur as well right now." She smiles, one finger trailing along his bare skin in a way she knows will give him an almost electrifyingly pleasant tingle, and adds lazily, "Past that -- yes, exactly."

Mikal thinks a moment, her head tilted, then adds gently, "If it is indeed all right with you, mon coeur?"

Jareth smiles and kisses Mikal's navel, "It is fine with me, my love. Norris is dear to me, and I would not grudge him such a gift."

Mikal sighs in relief, murmuring, "Thank you, lovely Cat. So... would you wish to be present? Would you prefer to talk to him privately? What do you think would make it as smooth and easy as possible for us all?"

Mikal stretches out her legs and back with almost feline pleasure, purring blissfully as Jareth's soft kisses travel deliciously over her bare skin.

Jareth's lips quirk into a little smile, "I believe that Norris may feel better if I were not present. I have learned not to mind having someone nearby, with Raphael being nearly always present." The kisses trail down the front of Mikal's hip and down her thigh, "But I suspect... this may be the first such time for Norris."

Mikal giggles softly, tangling her fingers in Jareth's hair and giving a light, teasing tug, "That's not the only person who's been near in the past few years!" She chuckles quietly as she shivers with pleasure again, then murmurs, "I've had training in helping those for whom it is the first time; that is not my concern. Mostly I wish him to feel no later guilt or pain regarding our relationship, you know?"

Jareth nods and grins up along Mikal's body to meet her eyes, "I will speak with him. But I think it would be best if you were there when I do so. And then... then I can leave if it feels best."

Mikal considers as she lazily strokes Jareth, then murmurs, "Perhaps if we simply explain it all to him? He is the type, I believe, to appreciate forthrightness -- and that way you could tell him, I'd be present also, and he can decide for himself, with all the information?"

Jareth nods and slides back up along Mikal's body to kiss her lips.

Mikal grins delightedly back, her eyes sparkling -- Jareth has such an infectiously enticing grin! -then gladly loops an arm about his neck and warmly returns his kisses.

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