Lupus In Fabula

[Fiorella de Marco]

"I generally prefer to keep my grievances to myself, yet since you have asked - I must confess to a mild vertigo, courtesy of the distinct rotation, gravitational force, and the drier atmosphere of this world. Although, it is no longer as disorienting as it was during our initial visit to Houston."

Similar to her experiences on Planet Houston, the sensations aroused by this gathering compelled her to moisten her throat frequently with sips of wine or refreshing glacier water. To counter the arid conditions so distant from Malta, she had thoughtfully applied a delicate layer of moisturizer to her sun-kissed skin.

Despite these minor inconveniences, her demeanor gave no hint of discomfort or distress. Quite the opposite, her voice carried an air of serenity and contentment.

"What never ceases to astound me about the Sirians is their unyielding urge to meticulously delineate and encapsulate every facet of existence, often in the most expedient manner. What is the rush?"

She emitted a subdued chuckle, her voice carrying a deeper tone. Simultaneously, she removed her hand from his, skillfully resuming the task of braiding her raven-black hair. Although she remained seated at the edge of the bed, she evinced no inclination to rise.

"I have no intention of quantifying my intimate sentiments with the crude and imprecise tool of mere words."

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Fiorella Arianna de Marco | As Dawn Mayflower
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