Well, that was easy. Aza made no attempt to hinder or avoid the sudden and noticeably vicious kiss, emitting a soft purr-y growl as her mouth opened obediently for the blonde's, their tongues clashing as if Methuseld meant to consume the other woman. Neither knew of the changes that had been wrought to the other after their recent parting down in the hold, so it was entirely possible there was some serious underestimation happening. Aza was unawares of the likely very deep well of frustrated lust (and maybe, a certain sexual resentment towards males and an unfortunately rape-packed past?) that had just been tapped and loosed within Methuseld. And the General wouldn't realize that the foxgirl's sumptuous form now harbored the remnants of a supernaturally sinful being that had exactly two hobbies: fucking things, and fucking up things.<br/><br/>Methuseld pushed the smaller girl down onto the deep, silk-swaddled mattress. She was treating the encounter in what might have been the only way she knew how: like a fight. But this was the wrong battleground to take<em> that</em>stance. Bedchambers and open-mouthed kisses were Aza's territory. And the fox meant to defend it.<br/><br/>As they fell backwards, Aza slung one leg around Methuseld's at the crook of her knee and kept rolling, taking their momentum right over. The blonde would find herself on her back in all the pillows, one small sky-blue-haired fox propped on her chest. Black shimmers scampered over the surface of the armor beneath Aza's splayed hands, not that she cared about such strangeness. It was time for the damned stuff to come off again. There was skin somewhere beneath it, soft slopes and rises of flesh needing to be caressed and licked. Maybe bitten. Mostly nicely.<br/><br/>Whatever magical differences had been imposed on Methuseld's metal dressings didn't hamper the fox's efforts to remove the offending stuff and toss it aside. She fastened her mouth back over the General's even as her nimble fingers began to work. Her kiss was committed but much less demanding than the one the blonde had initiated, encouraging her to<em>savor</em>rather than<em>devour,</em>tongue promisingly dipping against hers. And once the largest pieces of armor -- Aza had no idea what any of them were called, nor any desire to learn; there were too fucking many of them -- and the mail had swiftly been discarded, leaving only fabric between their torsos, the girl nipped at the other woman's bottom lip before running more kisses along her jawline. "Touch me," she murmured lowly, and bit the lobe of her ear. "I want you to... and to touch you, I want..."<br/><br/>The fox's hands were already roaming, in fact, one smoothing the curve of Methuseld's hip to her ribs and then up beneath her doublet, palming the well-rounded shape of one breast, thumb stroking over the hardened nub at its tip. "Sssshare with me," she told the blonde, hips moving down against hers, one naked thigh drawing up between the armored angles of Methuseld's. "Pleasure, enough for both..."