<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Lady_in_black_by_Drakevensia.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Asaria Lao<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Frozen Hearth<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Evening, after sunset<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Gormr, Open<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Lust had a particular flavor that perfumed the air. Asaria could smell it now, drifting from the nord’s pores without him even knowing about it. Like fear, this sharp scent made her bones ache with pleasure, spicy and sweet all at once, like cinnamon. She licked her lips as she leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table and knew she had him. The thought thrilled her, but more importantly, it eased the need to feed to a more subtle level. Instincts knew now that food was on its way, and it was best to allow the more subtle acts to take over.<br/><br/>Her smile showed no fang, but still her white teeth flashed at him. “Asaria,” she paused for a moment, then sat up straight and stood to her feet. She wasn’t a tall woman, certainly nowhere near as tall as Gormr, but there was a certain predatorial grace she was capable of, not unlike the great cats that roamed the lands. Even when she reached for her wine and the pack that carried her carving tools, this wasn’t the sort of noble woman who tired when fanning her face at a party. “Asaria Lao. You’re quite the gentleman, Gormr. I hope that doesn’t extend too far in the bedroom… I bite when I get excited.” The strap of her pack went over her shoulder, her things collected and the table now clear. She extended a hand to gesture towards the hall, then moved forward without looking back, knowing that he would follow.<br/><br/>She had rented a private room on the bottom floor, one farthest away from human traffic, and relatively isolated. She opened the door, grateful that the fire in the private hearth was reduced to warm embers, and illuminated the room with a pale red glow. She set her pack down, took a deep drink of her wine, and told her hunger that it wouldn’t be much longer. She could hear the nord walking, could tell when he was close enough to see her back, and it wasn’t until he was in the door frame that she chose to lift her hand and unclasp the neck of her top. With her back to him, the garment dropped, exposing the long, sleek lines of her back, the lean muscles, and curve of her hips. The trousers were still in place, but Asaria looked over her shoulder as she stepped out of her boots, exposed from the waste up yet facing away. He looked like the man who enjoyed the teasing. “Please lock it behind you. I’d hate for anyone to try and take a peek at who was making you scream. Or are you more of the silent type?” Her hands were on her belt, loosening the garment so that he could make out the curve of her ass- but only the top. She wanted to smell and feel that hunger grow.