In this tent, with its cold, lifeless light, there are precisely two sources of heat.  Only one that Senna can feel.  One body that dispels that cold, painful loneliness.  Her very presence is more intense than any touch she's ever felt, and when their fingers meet, she can barely breathe.  As the elf wraps herself around her little merchant, protects her from that lonely chill, yet the hunger... the hunger... it only grows worse.  It's like a beast inside her, clawing to get out, to feed, and it can smell Fallon.  She can feel that hunger pulling back, towards the elf's warm, soothing body.<br/><br/>And yet, she feels at peace.  She is, at once, as relaxed and as panicked as she has ever been.  She rests her hands atop Fallon's and closes her eyes, joining in the stance.  Her elder's expert, methodical ministrations have left Senna in a trance-like, almost hypnotic state.  Fallon could say anything in the world right now, and Senna would accept it without question as she melts away, feeling the line that defines where she ends and the rest of the world begins blurring where the two bodies meet.  She slides into the blanket without a hint of resistance, hips gyrating, searching along the way, those pure, pink panties swiftly changing from her final protection to an unbearable prison.<br/><br/>As the blanket seals them in warm, black comfort, she turns around, facing the one she craves so desperately, lips searching madly in the dark, finding cheek, neck, jaw, leaving their own warm, wet mark everywhere they go.  "Show me this world," she whispers, barely able to tear herself away from the taste of Fallon's flesh.