Purmoral
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Waiting for spring
🕑 Added 2022-01-14 11:04:02 +0000 UTCHi everyone!
Pur and I decided to create a short text about an elf priestess who is preparing for breeding rituals. Idea - Pur, writing - Tina. Since English isn't my native language, I would truly appreciate your feedback and comments.
More about breeding rituals - here and here. Elf lady - here.
At first it appeared in the air.
Those who lived in the Forest smelled this - a unique mixture of freshness of blossoming leaves and spice of flowers, oily damp earth and cool moss on the stones by the stream. Barely noticeable, it becomes stronger every day, richer. The Forest was changing, preparing for a new round of the eternal cycle of life and death, even in places where greenery grew all year round, and the inhabitants didn't know frost.
Allana felt it too. Her body responded to this smell, also changing - becoming more sensitive, reacting to every touch with sweet goosebumps. At first vaguely, but every day more strongly, the priestess was tormented by a pleasant, aching emptiness in the lower abdomen, the need to be filled again. Desires and night visions became brighter every day - how she bends, feeling inside the hard hot flesh of another stranger, warrior or wanderer, whom she will no longer see, how load of seed pours into her. How after the chest becomes heavier, filling with milk, and the stomach grows, carrying a new life inside.
Allana smiled, seeing the same desire in her sisters' eyes. Often the priestesses retired to their cells, quenching thirst in each other's arms. But they were more busy with the temple building - both to distract themselves and to prepare for the most important ritual, the priestesses cleaned every corner, decorated the rooms with flowers and garlands, wiped the lamps from soot and prepared food and fragrant oils. When the blessed hour of breeding rituals arrives, the priestesses will have neither the time nor the inclination to take care of it.
In the meantime, Allana and her sisters sang songs, prepared outfits and cells, laughed and cast wistful glances at the narrow path leading to the temple.
The desired time will come soon.
