It was on the barren plains where they first touched. But touching is only ever the beginning.
The two gods laid upon the ground, letting their bodies merge together in lover’s embrace. Their passion made the world move with every thrust, each cry of ecstasy written into the wind, the world changing around them as surely as their waters flowed into each other.
“Blend your song with mine,” they would say. “Etch our story into the aether.”
It was then that the flowers bloomed, witnesses to a climax that would stretch for eternity. Red, for passion.
Red for their love.
