<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/MkdOVAW.jpg?2)</div><br/>The golden-haired woman looks on with a mixture of caution and stoic resilience as Naori approaches her.  She listens and inclines her head, giving the woman's figure a once over.  "I can see the necessity, no doubt," she added-- was that coyness in her voice?  A spark of life from the fair-haired human, perhaps?  She nods, faintly, and sidles along behind her.  "If you plan on throwing me under these demons' blades after a quick groping, I'll pass."  She locked eyes with their new Mistress, her face alongside the nape of the warrior's throat as if in a gesture of close affection.  "A girl must have standards."<br/><br/>She could smell the elf's skin now... the scent stirred memories in her, a combination of predatory musk and pure, clean water-- something she longed for now, and deeper in her past.  Against her will, she let her soft lashes flutter faintly closed and inhaled deeply-- the familiarity of it was elusive, as if Naori was someone much like her old lover, the one whose face was stolen from Baudhiel's mind by the rough descent into hell and her own, more shameful, descent into madness.  Pushing the thought away, she half-opened her eyes, her barely-clad form meeting the elven warrior's sculpted lower back, her hips the swell of her ass, and gently slid her hands along the woman's flanks to cup her breasts over the leotard.<br/><br/>"Place the armor," she said gently, "and I'll squeeze... then help you fasten."  Her skin was cool and pliant, the remnants of the once-enchanted armor feeling like leather over a supple body.  Perhaps accidentally, her fingers parted over where Naori's nipples must be, making an almost imperceptible caress.<br/><br/>