The choice between the two items was tough. Each was irresistible for a completely different reason and the fact of the matter was, Valkyrie wanted them both. It was, however, the black and white’s spear which won out—they were closer to the last place that that horse had been seen, and thought of Hope’s groupies guarding the diseased waif and her trinket was a healthy enough deterrent. A resolute grin sliced through the pensive expression dressing her thickened features, and her crystal-blue eyes turned to find K’yarie’s.
A brief exchange took place before the goddess’s purpled throat slid atop her own and came to rest. The warmth radiating between them was a welcome change to the icy wind and the endless rain, and the paler dipped her dimpled, whiskered chin yet lower, leaning it upon the stiff bugle of one knee. A similar feeling of fatigue washed through Valkyrie as they lay, and she found herself lulled by the soft, rhythmic breath of her friend; bright blonde lashes fought to free her eyes, yet, as the minutes bled by, she soon fell beneath the heavy wave of slumber.
Uwaritace
