<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Name:</strong> Cheshire<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Side Street<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> Dormouse, Hare, Anybody else who feels like eavesdropping in the vicinity.<br/><br/>The Cat watched, she watched and she cradled and she held and she adored with every sweep of that free hand against the Mouse's side.  Constant that touch, never once wavering even if the twin to that hand held her cheeks just beneath the base of her jaw, sharp by contrast, steady, cruel.  At least here it was soft, gentle, the curve of her thumb catching just beneath her breast before it disappeared walking once more down the stairway of her ribs.<br/><br/>"It won't last long.  I promise.  Prrrrrroooooomis. Tears for a treat, my sweet!" She chimed and the last was almost in sing-song.  Almost. But the Mouse was held with it. Cherished and protected, watching eyes lingering on the Hare's bottle.  On his hands.  On the way it pressed in against her cheek, the way her tears spilled in against the rim.  Too focused those eyes.  Too wide.  And her tongue swept her lips in longing as her jaw gave way, creeping open and the urge to lean, to take and steal the taste of them away from herself was only barely over come.<br/><br/>"My. Mouse."<br/><br/>Though it's unclear to whom that announcement was meant there was a warning in its depths that was vicious, threatening and cruel; like a cat who's lunch is currently threatened by another.  Me me me. Mine mine mine.<br/><br/>Cats play with their food, too.<br/><br/>"See," the cat said, when his hand drifted further away.  Hands, always hands, with the petting and anyone could pet her.  Anyone.  Except...perhaps ..... "No pain." And it came out a disjointed pout, because she realized there wasn't and her tongue touched again against the split in her lip and she nuzzled the curve of her cheekbone so very near that black eye against the curve of the Mouse's shoulder just to content herself.  Nuzzled....and drew the Hare's fingers in against her lips with an eager sweep of her tongue, tasting the salt from his skin as if she might find a hint of the Mouse's tears there.<br/><br/>She didn't let go either, except for of the Mouse's chin when her hand shot out like a snake to collect those bags. "M-ah-ne." Which....could have been 'mine', had there not been fingers in her mouth.</span>