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[demandsatisfaction]

« LadyHollow » TEXT ✧ AUDIO ✧ VIDEO ✧ ACTION Lilias Hollow ✦ Tabletop OC
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[demandsatisfaction]

[Lilias smirks a little at the deliberate stroke of Ophelia's fingers, subtly at odds with her rather demure replies. The way her hands move to brush against skin suggests that a drink isn't all she'd like, and despite Ophelia's claim that she isn't one to settle, to Lilias, she gives off the impression of one who is harbouring desires that she isn't quite ready to voice. But the evening is still young, yet. There will be plenty of time to see if she can coax a bit more out of her, and a drink is an excellent place to start.]

Hmmm.

[Lilias hums, pretending to consider the request as Ophelia finishes up with her braid. She waits until it's pinned in place before she makes her decision.]

Yes, I think I would like a drink. You may pour some for us, once you've finished your current task.

Oh—and fetch something light for us to eat, as well. Something sweet, I think.

[valkyriens]

Of course. I've been baking nearly all day; I'm certain I can find something to your liking.

[No wonder. In the waking world Ophelia has already been doing her share of baking. No wonder it's bled into the fantasies here. She must have done more baking over the past few weeks than she ever has since taking an interest in the art. A weakness, a failure to adhere to her goals...but she's been so content, keeping the oven warm as she finishes treats for parties and gifts. Thinking of sharing her accomplishments warms her, and she hums a few times, deep in her throat. She's fortunate that the black, lupine features that have characterized her previous few transformations are absent, replaced by the familiar golds and whites of the qilin - save the horns, at least, which appear to have shed for the winter. The wolf features so often betray her thoughts and feelings. At least the feathery lashing of her tail now might be easily explained away as more than excitement or happiness.]

I'm nearly finished here, my lady. [There's still a thinner group of loose strands remaining unbraided, closer to the shorn side of her head, that Ophelia gathers up now. These strands she works into a quicker, even tighter braid, which she brings up and around the larger one, both secured behind one of the devilish horns Lilias sports now.] That should do it. Now, with your leave...

[She has something she needs to fetch. Ophelia takes a certain pride in running things smoothly: Just because it's a household tonight doesn't make it any less important. She moves quickly, lightly, through the ambiguously laid out floor plan of this dream cabin before she can return balancing two glasses of sparkling wine and two thickly sliced pieces of tightly rolled bûche de Noël, one of each she offers over immediately. The sofa is small but still enough to seat the both of them if they were to squeeze in together, and though her imagination quickly runs off with the fancy, she knows the thought is an impetuous one.

She kneels instead, balancing her weight over her heels on the rug next to the couch. Tail still going.]