She watche,d transfixes as the woman approached.  She was far too tall, slender, perfect beyond words.  No one part of her could be said to be wrong, but taken as a whole, it was too much of a good thing all at once.  It wasn't until she was close, the faint smell of.. flowers? floating in the air around her, that Liliandra even realized she'd been holding her breath.  The first intake of gasped air was an assault of new scents and sensations, her body starting to shake slightly.<br/><br/>When those great razor fangs appeared in that splitting maw, she quivered even more, whimpering softly under her breath.  She felt the dragging of pointed claws across her cheek, and Liliandra knew she was going to die.  Terror surged in her, and a strange euphoric feeling of certainty.  The young woman trembled, and knew she should have run when she had the chance.  Now, she was trapped, as surely as a wasp in tree sap.<br/><br/>The voice was an odd combination of reassuring purrs and disturbing echoes of other voices.  She shivered, and gasped anew, the claws changing into a smooth soft, warm, caressing hand, stroking her own smooth skin.  She knew she shouldn't tell it anything.  Never give them power over you, but her voice spoke out in a husky, frightened, almost whisper.  "L..liliandra... m..ma'am."  She couldn't say whether she was more terrified at giving in, or more terrified of having the woman walk away and leave her alone and standing.<br/><br/>The lilies were stronger now that she was breathing in deep almost panting gasps.  And there was something else as well.  The scent of her sister's room after her wedding.  The scent of her parent's room every morning.  It was a scent she knew, and knew the source of.  A scent that drew a flush of embarrassment to her cheeks, and a blossom of warmth between her legs.  Her eyes followed the naked woman as she stood, that clawed hand reaching out for her.<br/><br/>All she had to do to escape was say no.<br/><br/>She felt the firmness of the grip when her hand slid into the naked fae's own.  She felt the sharp edges and poitns of thsoe claws as they closed around her small soft flesh.  She felt her fear melt, and grow, ebbing and flowing like the irrigation river itself in storm season.  But she felt something else as well.  An excitement.  A thrill of knowing she was going to be a partner.  Of knowing she had  a purpose beyond farming and breeding more farmers.  Anticipation of the pleasures being foretold, and most importantly, the knowledge that she alone was desired and wanted.  She couldn't have said no if it was the only word she knew.