....through the lush forest and up the stone-lined road toward the Bastion, scenery splayed out around him, harsh mountain ranges in the distance, cutting rivers and bold valleys, all edified in the hushed hue of morning...  He could see the towers jutting into the sky... he dashed up the curving pathway that surrounded the Bastion's base and ultimately led to the main entrance.  Flat, chiseled sapphires, each a double-hand span wide, made up the walls to either side.  Bodibou traveled over scuffed and marred sinhalite stones, mortared with common rock to create a solid staircase of miniature steps.  He caprioled in an upward leap into the air once at the top.  The beast took A'kin beyond the towering archway and past the central court toward Arcen's council chamber.
Bastion of Amal
Elite Guard
"My Dom," A'kin said, torn by his now inappropriate lusting for his k'Dom's intended and his loyalty to a man who chose him as a son.  "I should remain to protect you.  There are many who will defend the 'rix with their life.  Our Elite are the best on any moon.  I have heard that she has made an impression on the guardsmen.  Surely..."
The Elite were and
are fantasy images
of every 'mimbo'
I have every written and/or read.  They are hunks of power wrapped in stoic personas, loyal to the square of infinity.  Perfect protectors.  And yes, sexy to the point of utter distraction.  I thank you, Elite Guard, for being my every dream.
The Stables
The stables of the Bastion were home to wapiti, Acen's  moose, caribou, and the many addax used by the Elite
Addax
k'Dom Arcen's Moose
ANGELICA HART and Zi
~Writing Team~
STAG NATION:  A VEXED HEART
For whom the belle tolls.  The peacock flashes his tail. The ram snorts. The wolf growls.  Why? The simple answer comes within the scope of one word... courting.  The art of woo.  I enjoy that word woo. It has a great sound.  An old word but it works.  One letter from wow!
Possessed... possessed... A societal taboo
I scream loudly to you... Go down in flames
All things are consumed by fire... What if that fire were desire?
Could the passion to be possessed be any stronger?  Last any longer?
Concrete spalls with heat... hearts; are thought to be made of stone... neat.
Passion can involve us all in the throes of its unique ecstasy.  Yes, we.
The incarnate of lust is beautifully pure.  It is raw.  Real.  And unmistakably honest.



                                



                                                        
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