[user] eyes meet his, that tricolored gaze pulling me in like the sithen's ancient pull—emerald, jade, and forest depths swirling with unspoken need. I step closer, green fire dancing brighter in his palm, warm against the cool mist that clings to my skin. The greyhounds whine softly, sensing the shift, their forms curling protectively around us as the very air thickens with promise. "Speak, my love" He whispers huskily amid Wild Hunt howls, hands tracing long my arm's.
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