Ana didn't even seem to notice that Cyrine was nude or care,  her eyes focused on the woman's face. She still looked like hell,  some or the black shadowing her eyes smearing ans running down her cheeks from the wet tears and her hair tangles around her small horns. The woman slowly took a puff form her lho,  shakily bringing her hand away from her mouth as she exhaled the could of rich,  fragrant smoke.<br/><br/>To be human was to feel sorrow. All but another emotion and sensory experience that Ana knew of all to well, to weep not was to turn to stone inside ans she wept often when she seemed alone. However,  here wad the woman who'd she'd appointed as a su next ans here this muse was crying like some abandoned imp or sad faerie in front of her. Of course part of her also realized that she was still, even in sorrow,  being a model of emotions ams inspiration for Cyrine and so she didn't run or hide or make excuses.<br/><br/>She leaned eagerly back into the arms and enjoyed the feminine him resting atop her head. And although she couldn't feel the kisses to her horns the would have been appreciated. Her selbder tail wraps around one of Carine's forearms and she sighed longingly,  taking a sip of the strong peach brandy.  " It is something I will never get over.  But it only serves to temper my decadence. I know my own will eventually seize me and admit that. It makes me a tragic muse. " she grinned a little,  calmed once more as her thoughts meandered from her brother to Cyrine,  the woman comofrting her right now. " You smell like sex. " she sniffed the air a little,  and no doubt she was quite used to such a smell.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>