The evening sun shined through the room’s window down upon her crossed legs, casting a golden hued shine upon an already richly browned tan…

Now then, just like you have been first taught…settle the breathing and focus to clear my mind…

Eyes the color of richest honey-mead slowly eased their way closed, beholding for a final moment the rich colors of her room, along with the rugged, dishwater-blond tassel of hair that earned her the nickname of “Swamp Rat.”

Do not think of that nickname, bad as my hair is I am not a “Swamp Rat.” More like a “Dust Rat…”

The most distinctive part of her though is her ears, those of a delicate feline-style; marking her as one of the rarest of folks – a spirit-catt.

She sought to close out each distraction about herself, so as to enter a mystical link with the world about her. Each of her breaths became slower, richer, and deeper, beheld in the rhythmic raising of her chest, and the slight movement of her partially covered breasts.

One single braid of her hair, looking like a small length of unkempt rope or twine, suddenly shifted its position from about her shoulder as if of its own volition.

The breathing of Rh’aan deepened.

The braid of hair, moved slowly, steadily, and with a grace of serpentine sensuality down onto one shoulder of a small blouse clinging loosely to her body. Sliding just under the hem of fabric, it moved the garments edge inch by inch, to the edge of her shoulder, pushing it off, and letting it come to rest in the crook of her elbow.

With that action, and sensing that part of her breast also is exposed, it started caressing her bare skin with the softest of touches; as one gets from a cat that wants to share in the moment of delight with its owner.

* * * * * *

A single foot moved, then the leg and body attached with it on the ledge. Blending in with what shadows existed as the sun prepared to set over the surrounding hills, the figure has covered another foot in distance, heading for one room marked as home to a special target…

Oh how much fun I plan to have this night! Why, I might just break out into song and proclaim my joy to the whole of the world!

Four floors above the street, he grinned at the stupid folks going about their work below, each and all preparing for the formal mage-gathering on the month dawning. Never once did they consider that a real master was here…

Tomorrow, the world shall indeed know that I, David, the master of the night, the “Swift Fate of Night” am indeed a master over those high nosed masters of spellcraft.

He eased to look in the window he just reached, to best see what goodies are there for the taking…

Oh wonderful, sheer moments of irreverent joy…

At first glance, the windows glass panes appear not to have been washed in ages of time. Closer looking brought about clarity to his understanding; they were of frosted glass, not clear like most are. Just a bit of movement caught his eyes attention, a small flicker in one area, but not much clarity when first looked through.

For just such occasions as this, a true master is always to be prepared properly…

He pulled out a small looking glass from a wrist-pouch, to obtain a clearer view of what lies within. And, much to his surprise, along with delight, he found out.

* * * * * *

She felt the soft caress against her skin, felt it moving with intent and dedicated purpose from her elbow, up onto the front of her blouse. All this time, the braid made sure to stay upon exposed skin, seeking to give the greatest of any sensation it possibly could.

Her breathing became slightly more rapid, just the barest of whispers at that, yet despairing to her. She felt the braid shift slightly as it arrived at the top of her blouse, knowing what was to happen next…

Calm back down girl, just let go of the feelings, there are just six buttons to go; block it out and maintain all of the focus you are seeking…

The braid splits into two smaller parts on one end; slowly, and with deliberate methodical steps, it pushes the button through its cloth eyehole; a little bit of lightly tanned skin shines in the lowering light of evening. It moved down the front, making sure to slide open the undone portion of her garment as much as possible…

Focus, yes it tickles…and makes you shiver a bit but just shove it out of…

Something for a moment tickled her ears, just the barest of rustling sounds outside; a light step upon wood softened with the great passage of years.